“Deep shit, boy, you understand?” It was Drooden. “You are in it up to your eyeballs and sinking.”
“For what? B and E? I’ve been clean for five years, I’ll probably get probation.”
“I thought you gave it up,” said Tee.
Eric shrugged and grinned at Tee. “You give up chasing pussy, Tee?”
Oh, they hated it when he grinned at them. Drooden looked like he was going to swallow his tongue.
“Homicide, boy, murder one!” Drooden was leaning in close, spitting in Eric’s face as he talked. “There are eight skeletons in that house. You seem awfully familiar with the place. How do we know you didn’t put them there?”
“Is that what this is all about? You guys don’t just love me for my own sake?”
“We’re fond of you, Eric.” Tee grinned back at him. “Don’t underestimate your appeal. Captain Drooden is so happy to see you he might decide to keep you.”
“Like a pet, you mean?”
“Like a love slave. Chain you down and have his wicked way with you for about five years.”
“Ooooeee, sounds fun.”
“Terhune,” said Drooden, aghast. He looked at Tee as if the chief had just cut a horrible fart.
The cops were getting in each other’s way, which was all to the good, as Eric saw it. Let them fight with each other; they might have less juice when they concentrated on him.
“What made you choose that particular house tonight, Mr. Brandauer?” This was Hatcher, the fed.
“What house is that?”
“The one you broke into.”
“I don’t think we agreed I broke into any house. I was talking theoretically about B and E.”
“Why that particular house, Mr. Brandauer?”
Becker was moving forward from the back of the room. Eric watched him closely. He stopped just behind Hatcher and studied Eric from over Hatcher’s shoulder.
“No reason. I didn’t see any lights. Did my man really do eight people?”
“We think you may have done eight people, wise guy.” Drooden was back in his face.
“If we really think that, then we better call my lawyer, shouldn’t we?”
“How did he get you into the car?” Becker asked.
This time Hatcher was annoyed by the interference, but he didn’t say anything.
“What car? Who?” Eric looked to Tee; he didn’t want to face Becker directly. “How many people do I have to talk to all at once? I’d like to help you people. I understand you got a problem here. You know me, Tee. I’ve never been a hard ass. Get me clean and I plead and fair’s fair. Now all of a sudden I got to face the nation here. Give me someone to talk to, you know what I mean, we can work something out.”
“Oh, now he’s shy,” said Drooden.
“It’s not really up to you to set the conditions of this interview, Mr. Brandauer,” said Hatcher.
“Better get used to gang bangs, Eric.” Tee’s grin was fading around the edges.
“He’s right,” said Becker. “Why not let me talk to him in private for ten minutes?”
Eric felt his stomach sink. Becker was the last man in the world he wanted to be alone with. But they were considering it; he saw the glances run from Drooden to Hatcher and back. Tee was not consulted.
“This guy tried to kill me! You can’t leave me alone with him! That’s not what I meant. He tried to kill me.”
Hatcher leaned close to Eric and patted his shoulder. The lesser cops were already drifting out the door.
“You’re wrong, Mr. Brandauer. If he had tried to kill you, you would be dead.”
“We are taking a coffee break. We’ll leave you alone for a few minutes to sit calmly by yourself and consider your story and its consequences, son,” said Drooden.
Becker pulled a chair to face Eric. When he sat, their knees touched. “Tee, this guy’s a maniac!”
“What guy?”
“Don’t leave me with him.”
“We’re leaving you alone in a locked room,” said Tee.
Hatcher paused by the door. “Becker.”
“I know,” said Becker. He didn’t look at Hatcher.
“I mean it.”
“Take a look at him,” said Becker. He lifted Eric’s hand. “A pre-existing condition.” He pointed at the purplish, swollen knuckle. “Otherwise not a mark on him.”
“I want him back that way.”
“I said so,” said Becker.
Hatcher pulled the door closed behind him. Becker scooted his chair closer so that his legs slipped between Eric’s. He continued to hold Eric’s hand in his.
“What are you going to do?” said Eric.
“What are you going to do?”
Eric tried to retrieve his hand, but Becker held on, gently but firmly.
“You wanted to kill me before, didn’t you?”
“How did he get you into the car?”
“I could see the look in your eyes. You wanted to pull the trigger.”
“Did you recognize the look?”
“What do you mean?”
“He got you into the car some way. He tried to stick you with the syringe, but you saw it and hit him. You beat him badly. He might have died.”
“He didn’t. I checked.”
“You checked before you came over to rob his house. That was good, that was smart. It’s not your fault the guy’s got bodies under the floorboards.”
“Is that for real?”
“He didn’t seem the type, did he?”
Eric shook his head. The man had been a weakling; he’d taken his beating like he deserved it.
“They never do,” said Becker.
“Is that why you wanted to kill me? You thought I was him?”
“I knew you weren’t him. Did he offer you money? Did he say anything about your mother?”
“My mother?”
“What was your mother’s maiden name?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Any reason not to tell me?”
“Margaret.”
“Her last name.”
“Evinrude.”
“Did you ever see him before?”
“See who?”
Becker spoke evenly, reasonably. “I’m tired of your horseshit, Eric. Did you know him? Had you ever seen him before? Tell me how he got you into the car.”
“Are you trying to get me on some kind of accessory-to-murder rap? Because honest to God, I don’t know a thing.”
“How did he get you into the car?”
“I never got into any car. I don’t know anything about a mugging.”
“The mugging’s a freebie, Eric. We don’t want you for it. He’s not going to testify about it. Just tell me.”
“Sure, just tell you. How about if I tell my attorney now?”
“You don’t need an attorney to talk to me. I’m a private citizen.”
“You’re not a fed? Why am I talking to you in the first place?”
“You’re not. I’m not here. You heard Tee. You’re alone in a locked room.”
Becker placed his thumb atop Eric’s knuckle and slowly squeezed. Eric was not prepared for the pain and gasped. Becker released the pressure but held on to the hand. His voice was still sweet and reasonable.
“Did you ever talk to anybody about insurance, Eric?”
“I suppose so. They call me up. Don’t they call everybody?”
“Did you ever meet anybody to talk about it?”
“Ever? Maybe, sometime. I don’t know.”
“Did you ever see him before you beat him up?” Becker touched the knuckle again and watched Eric’s eyes widen.
“Never. Are they going to let you do this to me?”
“Do what, Eric?”
“You’re torturing me, man. I’m going to scream brutality to the papers.”
“There’s not a mark on you-except the one you put there yourself.” Becker tapped the knuckle again.
Eric moaned. “You got no idea what that feels like.”
“Of course I do. Listen to me, Eric. Nobody wants you here, you’re not important in this one. We want him, the guy you mugged, the guy whose house you broke into. We want him very, very badly and we don’t have time to waste with you, so just answer the questions and get it over with.”
“And cop to all kinds of shit? How do I know what I’m involved in here? I want my lawyer.”
“That’s what we don’t have time for. We can’t wait a week to cut a deal before you answer a few simple questions. You are not going to incriminate yourself with me. Do you believe me?”