by Jenna Baker
Reid had finally agreed to let me interview him, but only when he had a break in his work schedule. While we waited, I asked Manny and Mac to get to work rigging hidden cameras and audio equipment. First, they installed a tiny camera in the rear view mirror of Foxy and Reid’s black Taurus. The shot would capture the two cops and would also pick up the person seated behind the passenger. The seat behind the driver would not be seen – that was where I planned to be sitting. My role was to sit in the back to make sure the detectives were having meaningful conversations while on-camera.
Next, Foxy led us over to the interview rooms. The doors were beaten up and old, and each had a reversible sign that read either “Interview in Progress” or “Available”. We stepped inside the first room, which consisted of a metal table and two metal chairs. There was an ashtray on the table and a wastebasket on the floor. I had expected the room to be filled with smoke and pitch black except for a lone light bulb swinging above the table casting harsh shadows. The cigarette smell was there and was pretty gross actually, but beyond that it was just a normal room with fluorescent lighting. There was, however, a piece of two-way glass in the wall which was pretty cool.
The center interview room was not actually an interview room at all, but a control room where detectives could sit and watch the interrogations going on surrounding them. The room contained some basic audio recording equipment and a primitive video camera.
“This thing record on DAT?” Mac joked as he looked at the audio deck.
“That’s camera humor, right?” Foxy asked. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s okay, man,” Manny reassured him.
Mac and Manny got to work placing a microphone in the ceiling and putting more professional-grade equipment in the control room.
We picked up some more shots of the exterior of the station, the work room and so on; it was always good to have some cutaway shots. As the sun began to set I sent the guys outside again to get some exterior shots of the “magic hour” when the light was orange and glowing. These types of shots were always handy in editing day to night transitions.
It was five o’clock before Reid made himself available to us. I planned to drag the interview out as long as I possibly could just to torture him. Anyone who wanted to learn how to be passive aggressive could take some lessons from me.
He sat in front of the camera with an annoyed expression on his face. I had gotten him in the chair, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. I was sitting across from him with Mac next to me and Manny sitting off to the side with his legs crossed. We were trying our best not to make him feel put on the spot, but in an interview that isn’t easy.
“Okay,” I began, “remember what I told you about incorporating my question into your answer?”
Reid nodded. “Let’s just get this shit over with, okay?”
“Okay. Mac, roll camera.” Mac began rolling and I glanced at Manny who nodded that he was ready too. “Let’s start with an easy one. Can you tell me your name and how long you’ve been a detective?” I asked.
Reid smirked. “My name is Detective Bradley Reid. I’ve been working homicide for the past four years.”
“Great,” I said. “You’re a pro. Now tell me about your background – where did you grow up?”
“No,” Reid answered.
“Huh?” I asked.
“I don’t want to answer that, next question.”
I stared at Reid, perplexed. It wasn’t like I asked him when he lost his virginity. “Uh, okay. Can you tell me why you wanted to become a detective?”
“My older brother and I used to play cops and robbers when we were kids. He would always play the cop, and I was the robber. When he’d catch me he’d beat me up. It didn’t hurt, but it was humiliating. So growing up, I always wanted to be the good guy and now I am.”
I liked his answer but couldn’t resist the urge to take a jab at him. “So you became a cop so you could beat up robbers?” I asked.
“We done yet?” Reid asked, not amused.
“Not yet. Tell me about the types of cases you handle.”
“Right now I’ve got three homicides I’m working. Two gang-related shootings and a whore who got carved up by a customer who didn’t want to pay. That’s usually the type of shit we get in here.”
“Be careful with that language, okay?” I said. “Tell me your percentage of solved cases verses unsolved.”
“I don’t keep a score card, honey.” He snapped but then thought a minute. “Look, in LA, there are an average of three homicides a day. It may not sound like much, but it adds up. We do what we can. We try to treat each victim as a victim regardless of their background or their income. It’s a numbers game, and it’s hard to keep up. There are a lot of wackos out there, we do our best.”
“What kind of cases are the hardest to crack?”
“White collar cases can be hard, but we don’t get too many of those around here. Druggies or hookers can be tough because no one wants to talk to us. But once we have an idea that someone knows something, we can lean on them with their priors – that usually works.”
“Are you married?”
“Ask me another personal question and we’re done here,” Reid answered.
I looked at Manny, who just shrugged. “Okay, no personal questions.” I said. “What do you love about your job?”
Reid’s face lit up just a little bit. “I love cracking the case. It’s like a puzzle and it’s a rush when all the pieces come together.”
“And what do you hate?”
“I hate telling the families of the victims that their loved one is dead. That never gets easy. It’s usually best to just say it quick and get it over with, but every reaction is different, you just never know what to expect.”
Reid and I continued back and forth for a while longer, but I decided not to put him through the full roster of seventy-five questions I had prepared. He was cooperating, so I would too.
After we finished the interview, Reid stood up and Manny removed his mic. “You’re a natural,” I said.
“I felt like a dickhead the whole time.” Reid said.
“So now we just wait for someone to die, right?” I said.
Reid’s expression dropped, and I felt my stomach turn. Just when he and I were starting to make a breakthrough, I said something stupid and ruined everything.
“Sorry, that came out wrong.”
Reid grunted and walked back to his desk. I followed him and addressed him and Foxy.
“Well, guys, that was a great first day. Me and the crew were thinking about going to a bar. Can I buy you guys a beer?” I asked, smiling.
Foxy looked up. “Beer?”
“Yeah, can I take you guys out tonight? It might be fun for us to all get to know each other.”
I could see Reid shaking his head ‘no’ but Foxy stepped in. “Sure, we would love to, right, Detective?”
Reid glared at Foxy. “I can’t – I have to get through these files.”
“Oh, come on, you’ve had your face buried in that file all day.” I said. “They’ll still be there tomorrow.”
Reid hesitated then finally relented. “One drink.”
