“Yeah.”
“You can have a lawyer if you want one. Or you can refuse to answer questions entirely, if that’s your choice. It’s up to you.”
“You a cop lawyer?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You one of them lawyers they said they could get for me?”
“No, I wasn’t appointed.”
“You think I need a lawyer here?”
“That’s entirely up to you. If you had anything to do with your wife’s murder—”
“I didn’t.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m positive.”
“Because if you did—”
“I’m telling you I didn’t.”
“You realize that anything you say to the police can be used later in evidence, don’t you? If you’re lying to me, Mr. Harper, I’d advise you to remain silent, I’d advise you not to answer any of their questions.”
“I ain’t lyin. I dinn kill her.”
“You’re a hundred percent sure of that?”
“A hunnerd percent.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“If I doan answer them, they goan think I killed her.”
“Not necessarily. I’ll make it clear on the record that you claim to be innocent of the crime and are answering questions of your own free will. If that’s what you want. They’re waiting, what do you say?”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Harper said.
The interrogation (or the “interview” as it is euphemistically called in genteel Calusa) was held in Bloom’s office, adjacent to the captain’s. In addition to Bloom, Harper, and myself, there was a man sitting behind a Sony tape recorder. Harper looked at the instrument, and then looked at Bloom and asked, “You gonna tape this?”
“Yes, sir,” Bloom said.
“Ev’ythin I say?”
“Everything. Has your attorney informed you that this may possibly be used as evidence?”
“Yeah, he tole me. Is it okay to have them tape it?” he asked me.
“If you choose to answer their questions, there has to be a record of what you say.”
“Well, I guess it’s okay,” Harper said.
The man sitting behind the recorder pressed both the play and record buttons. He said a few words into the mike, testing, played them back, and then rewound the tape and pressed the buttons again. Bloom read Miranda-Escobedo, as required by law, and elicited from Harper the responses that made clear he had been informed of his rights, understood what they were, and was willing to answer the questions about to be put to him.
“Detective Bloom,” I said, “I want it made clear on the record that my client denies any knowledge of the murder of his wife, and is answering your questions here voluntarily and in a spirit of cooperation.”
“It’s on the record,” Bloom said, and the interrogation began. “Mr. Harper, when did you last see your wife alive?”
“Saturday night.”
“What time Saturday night?”
“Long about two.”
“A.M.?”
“Yessir.”
“Then that would’ve been Sunday morning.”
“Felt like Saturday night.”
“Where was this?”
“Home.”
“Can you give me the address, please?”
“1124 Wingdale.”
“And that’s the last time you saw her alive?”
“Yessir. Juss before I left for Miami.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Yessir.”
“Isn’t that an odd time to be traveling?”
“Nossir. Wanted to get an early start.”
“Why’d you go to Miami?”
“Wanted t’see my mama. Also to drop off a load.”
“A load of what?”
“Junk. I’m in the junk business. I buys an’ sells junk.”
“And you went to Miami...”
“To sell some junk. To a man I does business with down there.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lloyd Davis. Turns out it was a wasted trip, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lloyd wun’t there. His wife tole me he was out with the reserve that weekend. He got to put in so much time with them, y’know. The army reserve. I was in the army with Lloyd overseas. Thass how we got to know each other.”
“But he wasn’t there when you got there Sunday.”
“Nossir, he was not. My mama wun’t there neither. Neighbor tole me she’d gone up t’Georgia, t’see my sister.”
“What time was all this, Mr. Harper?”
“Oh, early in the mornin sometime. Took me six hours or so to get down there, musta been, oh, I’d say, eight, nine o’clock sometime. Somewheres in there.”
“So what did you do when you discovered neither Mr. Davis nor your mother were in Miami?”
“Went to have some breakfuss.”
“Where?”
“I don’t recollect the name of the place. Little place off the road there someplace.”
“Did you eat alone?”
“Yessir.”
“Then what?”
“Called another ole army buddy of mine. He’s a recruitin sergeant there in Miami.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ronnie Palmer.”
“You phoned him...”
“From the place where I had breakfuss.”
“What’d you talk about?”
“Oh, juss how are you, how’s things, like that.”
“Then what?”
“I went up to Pompano.”
“Why?”
“Figgered I was up that way, might as well do some sightseein. It’s ony juss outside of Lauderdale, y’know.”
“How long were you in Pompano?”
“Oh, juss long enough to look aroun a little.”
“Then what?”
“Kept on drivin north to Vero Beach.”
“Why’d you go there?”
“Still sightseein.”
“All the way up to Vero Beach?”
“Ain’t too far.”
“Something like a hundred miles north of Pompano, isn’t it?”
“That ain’t so far.”
“How long did you stay there?”
“Oh, coupla hours, no more’n that.”
“Then what?”
“Drove back down to Miami.”
“And what’d you do there?”
“Got me a bite to eat, then went to the beach. T’get some sleep. Woulda gone to my mama’s house, but she was away, and I dinn have a key.”
“So you slept on the beach.”
“Yessir.”
“In Miami.”
“Miami Beach, yessir.”
“Were you on the beach at 11:45 P.M.”
“Slept on the beach all night, yessir.”
“Were you there at 11:45 P.M.?”
“Morrie,” I said, “I think he’s answered the question.”
“I’d like to pinpoint the time, Matthew, if that’s all right with you,” Bloom said.
“Mr. Harper, would you have any objection...”
“None a’tall. I was on the beach at 11:45 P.M., yessir. All night. Juss like I said I was.”
“Miami Beach, is that right?” Bloom asked.
“Yessir, Miami Beach.”
“Then you weren’t here in Calusa, is that right?”
“Morrie,” I said, “he’s just told you, at least four times—”
“Okay, okay,” Bloom said, and turned again to Harper. “Mr. Harper,” he said, “are you aware that on Monday morning your wife filed a complaint with the Calusa Police Department charging that you had physically abused her at 11:45 P.M. on Sunday night, November the fifteenth?”
“Whut?” Harper said, and turned away from Bloom to look at me.
“Are you aware of that?” Bloom asked.
“Nossir, I am not aware of it,” Harper said. “How could I... whut did you say I’m spose to have done to her?”
“The complaint charged that you broke her nose and—”
“Nossir, that complaint is wrong.”