“Nice tie,” Sawyer said. “Is that James Dean?”
“Yeah,” Abrams said, holding it up to look at it. “I have one with Marilyn Monroe on it too. I like the fifties. What about you?”
“The only thing I know about the fifties is what I saw on Happy Days, the TV show.”
“Then how did you know it was James Dean?”
“Give me a break,” Sawyer said, scoffing. “Everyone knows about James Dean. I saw this movie once on the late show with him. Rebel Without a Cause. Pretty good. The best part was the drag race to the edge of that cliff.”
“You like dangerous things, huh?” Abrams said.
Sawyer was too smart to answer that one. “Does this mean I’m under arrest?”
“Not necessarily. Right now we’d just like some answers.”
“Oh, I see,” Sawyer said slowly. There was a rattling noise under the table. He’d worn the boots with the chains and spurs and was resettling his feet. “Answers, huh?”
“If you want, we can talk about this incident today and try to clear it up. If you don’t, we can wait for you to retain an attorney and then discuss it. It’s your decision.”
“I’ll talk,” Sawyer said confidently and chuckled. “This is so silly, you know. I can’t believe it. She really told you guys I had pickled fingers in my refrigerator?”
“Yep, she sure did, Jimmy. Why do you think she would say a thing like that if it weren’t true?”
Sawyer didn’t hesitate for a second. “I really hate to tell you this…but she’s angry. She just made it up to get back at me.”
Noah Abrams could smell bullshit in the air. “And why’s she angry?”
The boy didn’t blink. His eyes were cold and determined as he leaned over the table. “Because we were lovers.”
Noah kept his face emotionless, but his stomach lurched with anger. Ann was a decent woman, a good woman. It sickened him just to sit across from this scum, knowing he might have shot her. Now what was he saying? “Lovers, huh? You and your probation officer were lovers?”
“Just for the past two weeks,” Sawyer said tentatively, testing the waters. “She made a move on me the first time I ever saw her, after court that day.”
“Oh, really?” Abrams said, his voice louder than he intended. “And where did this happen?”
“In a storage room outside her office. See, I was waiting for her in the hallway. I wanted to clear some things up, some things about what the judge said.”
“Go on,” Abrams said, softening his voice. He had a piece of paper and a pencil on the table and started doodling to control his temper.
“Well, it was time to go home, I guess. In fact, I think most of the people in her office had already left. I saw them walking out before I saw Ann.” Sawyer stopped short and stared off in space, as if envisioning the scene. “We talked. She was nice. After she explained what the judge meant, she asked if I had a girlfriend and I told her I didn’t. She said we should get to know each other, since she was handling my case.” Abrams shot him a nasty look, but Sawyer took it in stride. “Then she told me to step into this room with her for a minute so we could talk privately. That’s where it happened.”
“What exactly happened, Jimmy?” Abrams said. At that moment he pressed down so hard on his pencil that the point broke off. Irritated, he cast the pencil aside.
“She told me that she could get my probation changed so I didn’t have to report every month and piss in a bottle. She…she said she liked me, thought I was cute or something.” Sawyer looked up, pleased with himself. He’d had lots of other girls, so he knew this part rang true. “Oh, she also told me that her husband was dead. Hey, she was flirting like mad, a real horn dog, you know.”
“No shit?” Abrams said, raising his eyebrows as if he were swallowing it all whole. Inside, though, he was burning. Sure, the man knew what had happened to Hank. When she was shot, they’d covered the whole story in the newspapers. Be cool, Abrams told himself, play the game. This was one interview he didn’t want to blow. “You’re one lucky fuck. Sawyer,” he said, chuckling. “I wouldn’t mind putting it to her myself, but she’s never come on to me. Anyway, then what happened?”
Sawyer smiled. This was going great. He had this cop in the palm of his hand. “We kissed each other, okay? She’s a pretty good kisser. Then she let me grab her tits. Not much there, let me tell you.” Jimmy laughed loudly, enjoying his own story. “Anyway, after I fucked her, I left. I drove around the block and then I started thinking about her.”
“All right. Go on, I’m listening.” Abrams glanced over to make sure the tape was recording, expecting Sawyer to trip over his lies any second.
“So, I went back and drove through the parking lot, thinking she might still be there. When I didn’t see her, I decided to get a hamburger at the McDonald’s across the street. That’s when I recognized her on the sidewalk and stopped. You know the rest.”
In a perfectly flat monotone Abrams said, “When I first interviewed you after the shooting, you never said you had driven through the parking lot.” Yes, he thought, knowing he had just scored the first point. Sawyer had placed himself at the scene of the crime: in the parking lot prior to the shooting.
Sawyer snapped to attention. “Well, I didn’t exactly want to tell you the truth, now, did I? The lady had been shot, so…I didn’t want to ruin her reputation.”
Reel him in, Abrams thought, rubbing his hands on his thighs under the table, a look of phony admiration on his face. “You’re a considerate guy, Jimmy. Both a hero and a gentleman.”
“Oh,” Sawyer said, remembering the second half of his story, “we saw each other another time too. After she got out of the hospital.” He looked back at the detective. “I mean, I called her at the hospital first. She gave me her phone number and told me to call her.”
So far, Abrams had let Sawyer talk in generalities, but as the noose tightened, he craftily fished for specifics. “When was this? What day did you see her the second time?”
“I don’t remember the day, okay?” Sawyer said. “It was lunchtime, maybe one o’clock. I called her to see how she was feeling, and she said she wanted to take me to lunch. She asked me to meet her in the restaurant at the Hilton, I told her I’d rather go somewhere else. The food’s shit there, but she insisted.” Sawyer smiled, recalling she’d wanted to go to Marie Callender’s. Then after he’d left her, he and some of his friends had continued their party in one of the rooms.
“Then what happened?”
Sawyer’s gaze roamed around the room and then finally came to rest on the detective. “When I got there, we talked. She told me how scared she was since the shooting, how thankful she was that I saved her life. She was flirting again, making all kinds of suggestive statements, saying she wanted to give me a real reward. Then she said she wasn’t hungry and asked if I wanted to get a room. I paid for the room.”
“You paid for the room, huh?” Abrams said, cracking his knuckles. This was getting better by the second. Sawyer was lying through his teeth, and if he kept talking, he’d end up in worse shape than if he had just kept his mouth shut and demanded an attorney. “Did you pay with a credit card?”
“Yeah, American Express. You can check my bill.” Sawyer leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I mean, my mother always taught me to be polite, Noah. Isn’t the man supposed to pay?”
Abrams laced his hands together now and placed them on the table, controlling his urge to smack the kid right in the mouth.
“Then she told me to go up to the room and wait while she bought a bottle of booze for us from that shop in the lobby. I can’t buy booze, see, I’m not old enough.” He paused, searching the detective’s face. “Uh, after we had a drink was when she grabbed my crotch again.”
Abrams almost laughed at this one. Never in a million years could he imagine Ann Carlisle doing such a thing. She was demure, reserved, always a lady. “Grabbed your crotch, huh? She just reached over and grabbed your crotch? You mean, like, grabbed
your dick?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you have an erection?”
Sawyer’s eyes were dancing all over the place. “At first I didn’t, but after she started stroking me and kissing me, I did. She just sort of threw herself at me. I reached under her dress and she wasn’t wearing any panties. It was great.”
“Then what happened?”
“We fucked,” he said, running his tongue over his lips. “I mean, she was wild, Noah. She sucked me. She fucked me. She wanted me to give it to her up the ass. She said she hadn’t had a good fuck since her old man died or something.”
Abrams’s mind skidded off track, seeing the scene Sawyer was describing in his mind: Ann Carlisle with those long legs wrapped around his neck. His neck, not this jerk’s neck. Then he stopped himself. He was becoming aroused by this asinine story. Then he noticed that Sawyer was watching him intently, and he cleared his throat, “Uh, where were we?”
“I was fucking her,” Sawyer proclaimed, winking. “You’d like to fuck her too, wouldn’t you? I can tell. I can see it on your face.” He slapped the table and laughed. “Shit, Noah, you’d like to fuck her yourself.”
Enraged, Abrams almost leaped from his chair. Then he caught himself just in time. “Okay, Jimmy, I’m not the one with the problem here. You are, so let’s see if we can’t speed this up. We can always go back for a blow-by-blow of your affair later.” He rubbed his chin as if he were thinking over all he had heard. “What you’re saying, as I hear it, is that Ann Carlisle and you were lovers. Even if this is true, what does it have to do with the fingers?”
Sawyer hit full stride, and Abrams sensed that this part had been well rehearsed in his mind. “After we fucked, I told her I didn’t think we should see each other again.” He met Abrams’s gaze. “You know, she was older, she had a kid and all. And she was my probation officer. She went ballistic, man. I guess I insulted her or something. When she left, she threatened me, saying I was going to pay…she was going to make me pay.”
Abrams glanced at his watch. It was time to turn up the heat. Sawyer was loose and, from all appearances, confident he was in control. Perfect. “What you’re saying, Jimmy, is Ann Carlisle got angry when you ended your relationship. Then she decided to go out to your house and manufacture this story about severed fingers to get you in trouble. Right? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong here. I don’t want to put words into your mouth.”
“Exactly,” Sawyer said with satisfaction. “She was only a fuck. I wasn’t exactly dating her or anything. Maybe she was mad that I was moving out of my house today. Shit, I was only moving back to my parents’ house. It wasn’t as if I was going to leave the country. One of my roommates was a prick, see, so we decided to split up.”
Abrams began to press. “Tell me, did anyone see you together? Do you have any way to verify this relationship?”
Confused, Jimmy stared at a spot over Abrams’s head. Finally he answered, “Yes, people saw us together.”
Leaping to his feet, Abrams yelled right in his face, spit flying from his mouth, “Who? What are their names? When exactly did they see you and Ann Carlisle, Jimmy? Where did they see you? You’re nothing but a sleazy little liar. You’ve got no proof of this, and no one in hell’s gonna believe you.”
Sawyer recoiled, pushing his chair back a few feet from the table.
Abrams circled him now, completely unleashed. Sawyer’s eyes followed him warily around the table. “She’s a probation officer. What are you, bud? You’re nothing. Let’s talk about the narcotics lab you had set up in that house. Let’s talk about that, Jimmy boy. And where did your scumbag roommates scurry off to? You didn’t just have a disagreement about who was going to do the dishes. You were cookers. We know what was going on over there.”
For a moment Sawyer looked as if he was going to crack. Then he came back strong, yelling right back at the detective. “My mother saw us.”
“Your momma, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said, composed again. “She was having a drink with a friend in the bar at the Hilton.
She spotted us in the lobby when I was checking in. You can ask her.”
Nothing was too low for this guy, Abrams thought, disgusted. He’d even drag his own mother into this mess. But the detective knew he had to back off now. When the suspect came back strong, it was time to back down. The soil had to be soft before he could plow it.
“Certainly, Jimmy,” he said calmly, walking back to his chair and taking his seat. “Let’s go back to the narcotics. Are you denying that you were manufacturing and distributing drugs from that house?”
Sawyer laughed and gave the detective a knowing glance, almost as if he were letting him in on the conspiracy. “Of course I’m denying it. What do you think, Noah? I’m going to confess that I’m some kind of a big-time drug dealer? Pretty fucking funny, asshole.” The chains rattled under the table as Sawyer slid down farther in the seat.
So, Abrams thought, he wants to play hardball. “And your mother is going to swear to what you’ve just told me in a court of law? That she saw you and your probation officer at a hotel together? She’s going to perjure herself and risk prosecution?” Again the detective sprang from his chair. “You’re gonna have to do better than this, Jimmy.”
Abrams circled behind him and grabbed the back of his chair, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You should have given this more thought. Having Mommy bail you out and cover your lousy ass ain’t gonna do it.” Then he quickly walked back around the table and faced him. “And where did you get the cash to buy that fancy Porsche? Want to tell me about that one? Are you gonna get Mommy to swear she bought it for you too? Does she have canceled checks to prove it? You’re in deep shit, my man.” Abrams stopped and sucked in breath, ready to gobble Jimmy Sawyer up and spit him back out in bloody pieces. “I’m going to crawl up your asshole, Sawyer, all the way to your throat. I’m going to find the fucking shooter you used to pop this poor woman with in the parking lot.” Abrams slammed his fist down on the table, and Sawyer jumped. “Then I’m going to find witnesses to prove you were dealing and manufacturing drugs, drag all your little roommates in and put them through the wringer, offer them deals, whatever it takes.” Again the fist came down, and the flimsy table shook. “By the time I’m through with you, motherfucker, you’ll wish you were dead.”
“I want my attorney,” Sawyer demanded, his mouth puckered like a petulant child. Then he burst to his feet, pounding on the table as Abrams had, about to throw a full-fledged temper tantrum. “You can’t threaten me like this. I’m not saying another word until I talk to my attorney.”
Abrams hit the stop button on the tape recorder, seizing Sawyer’s arm before he struck the table again and then tossing it aside. He’d played hardball, all right, but the kid had still managed to score the winning point. And he’d done it with one lousy sentence, the one every cop dreaded during an interrogation.
The minute a suspect requested an attorney, the clock stopped and the interview was over.
Noah left Sawyer stewing in the interview room after slamming a phone down on the table for him to call his attorney. Before he went in to speak with Hopkins, though, he had to make a stop in the men’s room. Let the asshole wait, he thought, smiling grimly. Hopkins was probably going to tell him he’d blown the interview anyway.
After relieving himself, Abrams washed his hands and stared in the mirror. He’d lost his cool because of Ann. He was tired of eating in restaurants every night, going home to an empty apartment, never being able to have a real conversation with the women he dated. Lately, he hadn’t been going out much. He was burned out on the whole singles scene, particularly now with all the AIDS. He wanted a good woman to settle down with, and Ann was it.
Heading back down the hall, Noah thought of the caustic remarks Reed had made about his failed marriages. In truth, though, the women he’d married had decided they didn’t want to be married to a cop, so what could he do? According to his first wife, Rhonda, he was never home
. He hadn’t made enough money to give Sandra the things she wanted, while Bonnie had worried that he’d get injured on duty and she’d have to support him. Right, Noah thought facetiously, she was my last big mistake. But Ann was different. She’d been around cops all her life. She was one of them. When they were cadets together, they used to sit and talk for hours about all kinds of crazy things. He could still see her sitting there on the grass in front of the old station, knees pulled to her chest, her hair in a ponytail, laughing at his silly stories. And she was loyal, a real premium in today’s world. For four years she had stayed true to Hank, he thought, amazed that she had waited so long. His ex-wives would have been dating three days after he disappeared.
If Reed had only told him Ann was starting to date again, he would be the one looking after her now instead of that cowboy Hopkins.
The detective yanked open the door to the observation room and stepped inside. “So, what do you think?”
Hopkins had his hands pressed to the window and was staring through the glass at Jimmy Sawyer. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“What do you think of his statement? Pretty wild, huh?”
“The man’s a pathological liar and a drug dealer. It’s obvious,” Glen spat. “Book him.”
Abrams was taken back. He walked over to the attorney, and both of them stared through the window as they talked. “You really think we have enough? I mean, I’m not going to argue with you. You’re the one who has to try the case.” Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a stick of gum, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. Then he looked down at Hopkins’s boots. “Are those alligator? How much do a pair of boots like that cost?”
“Book the bastard,” Hopkins snarled through clenched teeth. “There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s guilty.”
This wasn’t the D.A. talking here, Abrams thought, this was the man. “Uh, what’s the charge?”
“Attempted murder.”
“The Carlisle shooting, right?”
“What do you think I mean?” Hopkins said, still staring through the glass. “You can’t do anything about the fingers until we prove there was an actual crime. Right now we don’t have a victim. We don’t have anything but Sawyer himself.”
First Offense Page 11
