"You both win the prize, gentlemen," I said, "although the real winner is the DA."
We'd all been worried that the commando would only be charged with what had actually gone down at Rachel's tonight. We had him on trespassing – which is a misdemeanor – attempted assault, and attempted abduction. And if that was the whole indictment, the bastard might well make bail.
But since rope and gasoline had been used in both witch burnings, finding it in Mister Commando's van meant the DA could charge him with two counts of abduction and murder, along with the stuff involving Rachel. And since a case could be made that he was motivated to burn the women because they were witches, a trio of civil rights violations might be involved, too – although that's a Federal rap.
Which means that at arraignment, the district attorney's office could ask the judge either for a remand into custody, or for bail so high that the fucking Rockefellers couldn't pay it. And there was a real good chance that any judge would go along.
The last thing I wanted to see was the commando released on bond. He'd disappear faster than a politician's ethics – and be just as hard to recover.
The three of us were grinning at each other when a uniformed officer came into the squad room, looked around until he spotted me, then headed toward McGuire's office.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant," he said to McGuire, then turned to me. "Sergeant, your John Doe is in interrogation room 2."
I looked at him. "My what? John Doe?"
"That's what he is, Sarge. Guy refused to give his name. And since he didn't have any ID on him…" The officer shrugged. "He's John Doe."
"Jeez," Karl said. "I would have at least expected name, rank, and serial number."
I stood up. "Well, guess I'll go talk to him. If I can figure out what movie he's got playing in his head, maybe I can tweak the ending a bit."
Karl said, "I'll get started on the arrest report while you're doing that. Don't want him to get sprung because of a paperwork error."
"Let me know how your conversation goes," McGuire said.
"Hell," I said. "You'll probably be able to hear the screams from here."
"His or yours?" Karl asked.
The interrogation room is about eight feet square, with acoustic tiles on the walls and ceiling. The purpose of the tiles is to block out distractions from outside, but if a suspect wants to think the point is to muffle screams, that's not usually a bad thing.
Carmela Aquilina followed me into the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Procedure says at least two cops have to be in there with a suspect. Unlike a lot of procedures, that one makes a certain amount of sense. One-on-one, it was just possible that a suspect could overpower the detective and grab his gun. Then all kinds of bad shit would follow.
Since Karl wasn't permitted in the room, I'd asked Aquilina to back me up. Part of that decision stemmed from the fact that she was available, although I knew that a couple of other detectives from the squad were also in the building someplace. But my other reason for asking her was based on her gender. We didn't yet know what scabs on his psyche our commando was trying to scratch with his witchburning, but I thought hatred of women might come into it somewhere. If so, having an attractive female cop present might get under his skin, with interesting results.
The commando was seated at the big square table, so Aquilina and I took chairs opposite him. "You and I have already met," I said, "although I didn't get the chance to introduce myself. I'm Detective Sergeant Markowski." I made a nod to my left. "This is Detective Aquilina. And you are…?"
He just stared at me. He was trying for impassive, but the hatred burned in his eyes like twin bonfires. They'd taken the stocking cap off him downstairs, and I saw that his hair was what my mother would have called dirty blond. He had the blue eyes to go with it, too – a regular storm trooper. Pettigrew would have loved him.
"I don't know why you're playing cute about your name," I said. "If you've been in the system, your fingerprints will ID you soon enough. Same thing if you've ever been in the service." I pretended to study him. "You're ex-military, aren't you? What were you – special ops?"
I didn't believe that for a second, but sometimes a little flattery goes a long way. Not this time, though. He just kept that basilisk gaze on me.
"Maybe he's ashamed to tell us," Aquilina said.
I cocked an eyebrow at her. "You think?"
"Could be. If we knew his name, we could look into his background. I wonder what we'd find?"
"Maybe he was a war hero," I said. Aquilina and I had slipped into good cop/bad cop without even planning to. That's another reason why I'd wanted her in the room. She's smart as hell.
"No, I don't think so." She ran her eyes slowly over the prisoner. "Anybody trying that hard to look tough is probably overcompensating for something."
"That's not fair, Carmela," I said. "We don't know anything about him."
"We know what we can see. I mean, look at the size of his nose, and those short fingers. I think he dresses like a tough guy because he's got a teeny weenie, and he's afraid somebody will find out."
"Oh, come on – you've got no call to say stuff like that."
She gave the prisoner a nasty smile. "Betcha ten bucks he's hung like a hamster."
"How do you figure to win that bet?" I asked. "I'm sure not gonna make him undress in front of you."
"Wait until he's been in the county jail for a couple days – and nights." The nasty smile became an evil grin. "Then we can ask his cellmates."
"All right, Carmela, that's enough," I said, making myself sound irritated. "Take a walk. Go get some coffee, or something."
"All right, Stan." Aquilina stood up slowly, as if it had been her idea all along. "I'll leave you and your new boyfriend alone for a while, if that's what you want."
We were violating procedure now, leaving me alone in here with a suspect. But I thought the payoff might be worth it.
When the door closed behind Aquilina, I said, "I'm sorry you had to put up with that. She's not my regular partner. But he's undead, and not allowed to participate in interrogations. That Influence thing, you know."