2 in the Hat： A Novel of Suspense - By Raffi Yessayan Page 0,9
the grand jury. Connie stood and approached the witness.
“Please raise your right hand, sir.”
Ward reluctantly raised his hand a couple of inches above his waist, as high as he could, his cuffed left hand trailing close behind.
“Do you swear that your testimony before this grand jury shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“There is no God.”
Great. This was not going to be easy. “Fine, then do you affirm that your testimony shall be the truth and nothing but the truth?”
Ward nodded.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I need you to verbalize all your answers so that the stenographer can record your testimony.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. Now, could you state your name for the record, spelling your last name?”
“Fuck You. Last name is spelled Y-O-U.” Then Ward laughed.
“That’s very funny, sir. I’m going to ask you one more time, then we’ll be going upstairs to see a judge who will hold you in contempt for not answering my questions. Do you know what will happen if the judge finds you in contempt?”
“Yeah. Absolutely nothing. What are you going to do, send me back to jail? I’ve been in the hole for two months now. You can’t do shit to me.”
“Please state your name for the record.”
“I already did. Fuck Y-O-U.”
Connie walked over and opened the door. “Detective, can you get him out of here? Just take him back to the interview room. I want to talk with him before we go to see the judge.”
Ward, looking sickly in his baggy orange jumpsuit, said, “Sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance to your investigation, Mr. DA. I already told you, I ain’t no snitch. But thanks for bringing me to court anyway. It was nice to get out of the hole for the day.” He let out another burst of laughter as the door closed behind him.
CHAPTER 8
Alves maneuvered through the parking lot pocked with mortar-sized divots, the result of decades of poorly repaired potholes. He went in the rear entrance of the bakery and scanned the shop. Half the crowd had their newspapers held so high he couldn’t make out their faces. He went to the counter and ordered a coffee before walking over to the man at the corner table.
“Anyone sitting here?” Alves asked.
“Yeah,” the man said.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Alves took the seat across from him. “Good morning, Sarge.”
“Morning, Angel.” Wayne Mooney folded his newspaper and placed it on the table. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Happened to be in the neighborhood on a Monday morning. Thought I’d stop for a cup of joe.” Alves took a sip of his coffee. “Saw my old boss tucked away in the corner and thought I’d come over and say hello.”
Mooney shook his head. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t come into the Greenhills Irish Bakery and order a coffee.” Mooney stood and grabbed the full cup out of his hand and stuffed it into a trash barrel. Alves sat patiently until Mooney came back with two teas with milk and sugar and two raisin scones with butter and jam.
“Irish breakfast?” Alves asked.
“This is the light version. You should see what the painters and plasterers eat.” Mooney broke off a piece of his scone and chewed it. He stared at Alves long enough to make him uncomfortable. “Why are you here, Angel?”
“Double murder last night.”
“I heard. Two white kids murdered in Franklin Park. Not good for the city’s image. Drug deal gone bad?”
Alves shook his head.
“Funny thing. I heard that the bodies were discovered by a homicide-detective-turned-Pop-Warner-Football-coach. Angel, you’re not ready for Homicide if you have time for your family.”
“This is what I miss about you,” Alves snapped. “You know how to lay on the guilt whenever I try to be a good father. We’ll talk later about my lack of a work ethic, or, what do you call it…Irish guilt.”
“There has to be something more to you stopping in Adams Village for a cup of coffee.”
“I didn’t find the bodies. Iris did. The kids were doing a lap after practice when she found the girl.”
“I’m sorry,” Mooney said. The ruddiness of his face deepened and Alves knew he was angry. “How is she?”
“Pretty shaken. The first full week of school starts today. She went in, but we’ve asked them to keep an eye on her. We deal with so many kids who witness things that no child should have to see. I tried to shelter the twins, and then last night …”