“Yes.”
They went through the form, place of birth, mother’s name and age—Shirley Johnson, forty-one—her mother’s phone number. The answers came easily until Mike got to the father.
“Father’s name?”
“Waquin Boudreau. Please don’t ask me his age cuz I don’t know it. And I don’t know his phone number, if he even has one.”
“Okay, Tina.” Mike had not smiled at her even once. “Ever been to church?”
“When I was a little girl.”
“How long ago?”
“Last year.”
“Who took you? Your mother?”
“My mother? She don’t go to church on account she got no way to get to church. I used to go with my sister and my aunt.”
“Did they teach you the difference between right and wrong?”
“In church?”
“Anywhere,” Mike said. “Do you know the difference between right and wrong?”
“Yeah.”
“Who taught you the difference between right and wrong?”
“My sister and my older brother. My mom taught me a little.”
“Give me an example of something you think is wrong.” His head was bowed over the page.
“Shoplifting,” Tina said.
“Give me another example.”
“Lying.”
“Give an example of something that’s right.”
“Going to school, getting my education.”
“Something else.”
There was a long pause. Tina stared at the camera lens as if waiting for the right answer to appear there, the closest thing to a TV in the room.
Mike kept his focus on the end of his pen as he prompted her. “Is doing what your mother tells you right or wrong?”
“Right. She always say, go to school, try to make something of myself.”
“Is committing a crime right or wrong?”
“Wrong.”
“What kind of crime do you think of as wrong?”
She thought before she answered. “Breaking into a store. Breaking and entering.” Stealing seemed to lie heavily on her mind, though she skipped right over murder.
Mike turned a page. “Have you ever had your constitutional rights read to you before?”
“Not me,” said with virtuous indignation.
“I’ll read your constitutional rights to you. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you just say so.”
He read the entire rights statement in the same flat voice. Then he looked at her. “Do you know what having the right to remain silent means?”
She frowned. “A little bit.”
“It means you don’t have to talk to me. If you give up that right, I can use anything you tell me in a court of law. Know what that means?”
“Yeah.”
“Know what court is?”
“Court is where the judge is at.”
“Know what an attorney is?”
“Like a lawyer?”
“Yes. You have the right to have a lawyer here while we talk. Anything about this you don’t understand?”
“I understand.”
“All right. Do you give up the right to remain silent? Are you ready to talk to me without having a lawyer here?”
“I guess so.”
“You guess isn’t good enough. Want to talk to your mother about it first?”
“Guess I should.”
Mike rose. “Let’s go do it.”
I followed them out into the hall.
The mother, Mrs. Johnson, had her eyes closed—napping maybe—and seemed annoyed about being disturbed from her repose by her daughter. She opened her eyes, but did not otherwise move, stayed slumped down with her skinny arms crossed over her protruding belly, and her head resting against a dark streak on the wall left by countless others who had sat on that same chair, waiting outside the interrogation room. The cuffs of her long-sleeved blouse weren’t long enough to hide the black tracks that her wrist veins had become. All around her, there was a strong smell of both wet clothes and alcohol.
Mrs. Johnson snapped at Tina. “What’d you do this time girl?”
“The man says I don’t have to talk. He says I can have me an attorney.”
“Well, you ain’t getting one. You know what you done. You go back in that room and you tell the man. And don’t you come out here again until you’re finished.”
Before Tina could mouth off, Mrs. Johnson turned to Mike. “I gotta be somewhere. Can I go now?”
“No, you can’t. You need to stay right here. Tina and I will be inside for a while. If you want to get yourself a cup of coffee, that’s okay. There’s a machine downstairs. But the law is real clear about you being on hand during the interrogation. I can only release Tina into your custody.”
“Release her?” Mrs. Johnson scowled. “Ain’t you gonna process her into juvie?”
“We haven’t even talked yet. Whatever way it goes, you need to be here when we finish.”
“This girl is a trial, I tell you. Nothin’ I can do to control her. No use me takin’ her home. Only way to keep her out of trouble is book her in. You hear what I’m sayin’?”
“I hear you,” Mike said. “Just wait out here, Mrs. Johnson.”
Tina grew sullen. I closed in on her face as she turned away from her mother and mouthed, “Bitch.”
Mike said to Tina, “Ready to go back?”
Head down, dejected, looking suddenly far younger than her thirteen years, Tina went with him. Loudly enough for her mother to hear, she said, “I ain’t going home with her. You can release me over to my sister’s house.”
“I can’t do that,” Mike said, waiting for her to enter the room before him. “You’re only thirteen. Once we take you into custody, we can’t release you to anyone but your momma. If you want to leave your momma’s after we take you there, if we take you there, and go back over to your sister’s, that’s up to you.”
Mike sat down and picked up his pen again. “You feel better now? You ready to talk to me?”
“Uh-huh.” Tina hadn’t finished her snit, but she sat down. She gave it one last try. “I want to go back home with my sister.”
“You know why you’re here,” Mike said. “Why don’t you start telling me what happened that night.”
“At night, I had already left.”
“Then go back to when this all started.”
“Okay.” She settled into her chair, leaned her elbows on the table. “Me and my friend Angie and my sister Daquie had went to the park.”
“Why did you go to the park?”
“We took the kids. We took Angie’s baby and Daquie’s little girl. You know. To play. This Mexican guy walks up and picks up Daquie’s little girl. Angie went to get the little girl to come back over there where we were. The man came back with her and started playing with her baby—Angie has a five-month-old baby. Then after a while, he asked if we want something to drink. Angie says she doesn’t have any money, but he says he’ll pay. So I walked to the store with him.”
Mike wrote notes, but he seemed to be only half-listening. He rarely looked at her, seemed to avoid eye contact. He said, “What was the man’s name. Do you know?”
“Pedro,” she said. “I walked over to the store with the man. He bought himself a twelve-pack. Angie drinks a forty-ounce, so he got Angie that. We went to go pay, and it looks like the man just got paid. He asked the clerk to cash his check, but the clerk says no. So the man, he takes a fifty out of his wallet.”
“Pedro had a wallet?”
“Uh-huh. We walk back to the park and he’s talking about why don’t people get along?”
“Did he get you something to drink?”
“I drink a couple beers, but that stuff tastes nasty to me.”
“He went back to the park with you.”
“Uh-huh. We played dominoes and stuff.”
“Who all was playing dominoes?”
“Me and Angie, my sister Daquie, and the man.”
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“You drink beer, he drinks beer.”
“He put down two beers in a couple of seconds, and I say, Dang, that’s a lot of beer.” She was laconic, emotionally flat. “I never saw no one drink beer like that.”
“Was Daquie drinking?”
“She’s eating on some chips. Then the kids were getting wet cuz the sprinklers came on. So we say we’re going home to get them some dry clothes. Then he says he’s going to leave then, too. We were all packing up the baby bottles and the kids’ shoes, and he picks up Tyrone, Angie’s baby, cuz he’s asleep. We all walk to the house and the man carries Tyrone inside.”
“Who invited Pedro to come inside?”
“No one did. He just walks right in because he has the baby. I say, You better leave. He’s pretty drunk.”
“You told him to leave?”
“Yes, I did.” Now she feigns outrage, as if trespassed upon.
“Where in the house did he go?”
“First, he’s sitting on the couch to feed the baby cuz Tyrone woke up. Then he goes to the kitchen to get some more beer. After a while we say, You gotta leave cuz we’re leaving and we gotta lock up. Then my sister Daquie says, You think he’ll give me bus fare cuz I have to go up to the county building. She don’t want to ask him. So I asked him, Can you give me some money? And he gives me ten dollars. I give Daquie five and I keep five for myself.”
“After he gave you the money, what happened?”
“This man gets pissy drunk and then Angie starts talking about boosting the man. He’s got a couple hundred and stuff.”
“Who started talking about boosting the man?”
“Angie. The reason why we did this is because we got no food in the house to feed the kids.”
“So, you’re going to boost him for food money?”
“And we got to pay rent.”
“Where was the man when everyone was talking about boosting him?”
“Not everyone. My sister Daquie got nothing to do with this.”
“Who all was in the house?”
“Me and Angie, my sister Daquie, Angie’s sister Zeema, and her friend Too Short. And the kids.”
“Where was Pedro?”
“He was sitting in Zeema’s bedroom.”
“Where were you?”
“I was in the tub. I had just came from my male friend’s house before we went to the park. I came back to change my clothes cuz I hadn’t planned to stay all night.”
“So you were in the tub.”
“Angie comes in and says there’s this fool in the house who’s pissy drunk, and about the kids need some food and all that. I say, You go do what you gotta do.”
“What did you do?”
“I get out of the tub, go sit down in the living room, and watch the TV.”
“You got dressed.”
“Yes.” She seemed scandalized. “I got dressed. What do you think?”
“Where was Pedro when you were in the living room?”
“They got him in Zeema’s bedroom. They tell me to go back there. I go back there and this man ain’t got no clothes on.”
“Who took his clothes off him?”
Innocence this time. “I don’t know.”
“So then what happened?”
“Angie let him kiss on her to make him think she would do something, cuz the man wanted to have sex with somebody. By then they had called Shannon. I walked back to the living room and I see Shannon coming.”
“When they told you to go into the bedroom, were you the one who was supposed to have sex with Pedro?”
“No. No.” With heat rising, innocence offended: “They just want to make him think that.”
“Did any of the girls have their clothes off?”
“No. The only one has clothes off is the man. All he have on is his underwear and his socks.”
“When you went back there, who was he kissing on?”
“Angie.”
“Were they on the bed?”
“No. He was laying flat on the floor. I ran back and told Angie that Shannon had come.”
“Who called Shannon?”
“They all said it was Angie. He came walking up pretty fast.”
“Who told you that Angie called Shannon?”
“Angie’s sister Zeema and her friend Too Short. They was just talking. You know, like conversation. Angie was in the room with the man, and Zeema says, Keep me out of this. Even though they were in her bedroom, she’s not going in there.”
“You found money in his sock?”
“Uh-huh. I took his sock off him and this twenty falls out. I don’t know who picked it up. Then Shannon comes in and Angie runs right out of there. So I go too cuz I don’t know what’s about to happen. Shannon just walks in and busts the man right in the face. Then he starts hitting him and hitting him. So I try pushing him away, cuz I say, Shannon, this don’t make no sense. And then they blindfolded the man.”
“Who did?”
“Shannon did.”
“Who tied him up?”
“Shannon tied him up. He used a white extension cord he found in the bedroom.”
“Okay.” Mike drew a deep breath. His neutral expression had hardened, but he wasn’t giving away any emotion. “Okay. What all did Shannon do to the man?”
“He beat the man. But I had left cuz Angie and Zeema’s momma came home from work. She walks in and she’s cussing me, call me a female dog. Her and me, we don’t get along. I mean this is all day everyday.”
Mike stopped her tirade before she got any further with it. “You don’t live in her house?”
“No. I just go over there.”
“What was Shannon doing to Pedro?”
“Beating him. Every time the man tries to get up, Shannon hit him. The man was crying, No more, no more.”
“Why was Shannon beating him?”
“I don’t know. He told me that during the riots a Mexican shot at him and he don’t like Mexicans ever since that.” She raised her hands to show that the whole incident was beyond her understanding.
“Were you there when they dragged Pedro out of the house?”
“No. I had left on the bus to go back over to my male friend’s house.”
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Turf.”
“If I ask Turf, he’s going to tell me you were there all night?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What time did you leave Angie’s house?”
“Not sure.”
“Before midnight?”
“Way before. Night was falling.”
“Night falls at six o’clock. When Shannon came over, was it still daylight?”
“Yes.”
“Now, Tina.” Mike leaned forward, all of a sudden paternal and firm. “Everyone I’ve talked to so far has told me you’re the one who told Shannon the man had money.”
“No. It wasn’t me.”
“Listen to me. Don’t get yourself into trouble. I know everyone is telling stories and you want to look out for yourself. But I’ve talked to four people already who were there. I know what they did, and I know what you did. Now, I don’t want any lying. What you’ve told me so far is not the truth.”
Tina whines, “That is the truth.”
“Part of it is. But not all of it. Yes or no, were you in that room when Pedro was getting beaten on?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Did you hit him?”
“Only one time. Angie came in with a spatula from the kitchen and I laid it on the man. His skin goes s-s-s-s cuz the spatula was hot.”
“That’s all you did to him?”
“That’s all.”
“Who else was in the room?”
“Me, Angie, Shannon, and Too Short. Zeema walked in a couple of times to get things for her baby, but she walked off. Except, one time she put the spatula on the man, too.”
“Who else was there?”
“Pen and Snoop, my two male friends.”
“How did Pen and S
noop get there?”
“Angie called them.”
“What did Pen and Snoop do when they got there?”
“They saw all the blood and stuff and say, Dang. They was like, Hit the man with your best shot. Pen and Shannon held the man up so Snoop could hit him. They was trying to knock the man out. But they just couldn’t do it.”
“Did anyone try to talk Shannon out of beating Pedro?”
“We tried to push him off, but when we turn our back, he’s back in there.”
“Tell me what you told Shannon when he first came.”
“I said, The man is in the bedroom.”
“You told him the man had some money.”
“I said, It looked like the man just got paid. I said, He has a couple hundreds and a couple fifties.”
“When you went through his pockets what did you find?”
“I didn’t take nothing. I had the wallet in my hand and Angie took it out of my hand. I don’t know how much she took, but I didn’t get none of it.”
“What about the twenty that came out of his sock?”
“I picked it up, but Shannon took it off me. He said, I gave this man a hundred-dollar ass-kicking and didn’t get me none of it. So I gave him the twenty. It ain’t my money anyway.”
“How much did you walk away with that night?”
“I already told you. The five dollars the man gave me.”
“Did you see Shannon carve his initials in Pedro?”
“I wasn’t in there. Daquie wouldn’t let me go in there.”
“You weren’t in the bedroom?”
“No.” Tina’s voice rose. “I was in there when Angie and Zeema’s momma came home. She was crying and stuff saying she didn’t want her grandkids around this shit. She gave me money to get her cigarettes and a beer from the store. She called me a ho’.”
“Everybody I’ve talked to said you were the one who promised Pedro sex, and that’s why he came home with you.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I’m saying you’re the one who gave Pedro the impression he was going to get sex in that house.”
She sat up primly. “He wanted me to, but I didn’t tell that man nothing.”
“Did you let him kiss you?”
“Nope.”
“Did he touch you?”
“The only thing was, I was rubbing on his leg and up here.” Tina spread her hands over her crotch. “I was rubbing on his leg, then I jacked him off.”
A Hard Light Page 9
