I want your word—don’t fuck with me—that if you need a break, you tell me. This is the long haul. You need a break during the haul, you take one.”
“I’m not sitting in interview with my leg up on a chair like some invalid.”
“No, you’re not. So you take breaks as needed.”
“Okay, deal. No bullshit, and no fucking with you.”
“Then let’s go. We take Washington first.”
“Snapper. I reviewed the report, his sheet.”
“I need you to start out good cop. Once we get a sense of him, get a rhythm, you adjust as you go, as you think, but start out sympathetic.”
“Lull him, got it.”
Eve stopped outside of interview when she saw Mira.
“I’ll be in and out of Observation,” Mira told her. “I’ll help when and where I can. I’ve cleared as much of my schedule as possible.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Good luck.”
With Peabody, Eve stepped into interview. “Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, Peabody, Detective Delia, entering interview with Washington, Denby, on the matter of case files . . .” She paused, consulting her file, as if she needed to, then ran them through for the record.
“Y’all cops look beat up.” He grinned when he said it.
He had a hulking build, not as big as Aimes, but the sort who spent a lot of his time bulking up because he thought it made him look tough.
It didn’t.
Acne scars sprinkled over his dark skin. His short dreads had fading red tips, and his jaw carried an impressive bruise from Roarke’s fist.
His data set his age at eighteen. He looked younger—until you saw the mean in his eyes. That read old and bitter.
“You, too, Denby,” Eve said as she sat.
“This here’s from police brutality. I be suing first chance.”
“Is that so? Strange, the record very clearly shows you incurred that injury while attempting to jack a police vehicle—while armed. That’s one of the charges pending against you.”
“Bullshit charge.”
Below the table, his fingers snapped. Eve could hear the snap, snap, snap.
“I’m trying to warn the van people shit’s going down, and dude sucker punched me, that’s what.”
“So when you were shouting—on the record—” Once again she consulted her file. “`Get the fuck out the van or I kill you motherfuckers,’ you were warning them because it sounds, clearly, like a threat to do bodily harm.”
“That weren’t me. Somebody else.”
“It was confusing out there,” Peabody began.
“Damn right. Shit’s going down, and I’m just trying to get clear and warn people. I’m just walking down the street, and shit’s going down.”
“You were inside the building,” Eve said flatly. “That’s also on record. Inside, Washington, you lying sack, and when the shit went down, you ran outside like a coward.”
“I ain’t no coward, bitch.” Now his hands jumped to the table in fists, and those old, bitter eyes flamed hot. “You take these cuffs off me, and we’ll see who’s the coward.”
“Mr. Washington.” In that reasonable tone, Peabody soothed. “We’re trying to straighten out what did happen. It’s best if you try to stay calm.”
Shifting, Washington tried making his case directly to Peabody. “I run in to see what shit’s going down, then I ran on out to warn people. That’s it.”
“You were attempting to keep bystanders out of danger.”
“Yeah, like that.” He shifted back to Eve. “Nobody calls the Snapper a coward. I don’t run from nothing and nobody.”
“Are you a member of the urban gang known as the Bangers?” Eve asked.
“Shit, yeah, and Bangers don’t take no shit from anybody, don’t take no shit from cops, sure don’t take it from beat-up girl cops.”
“As a member of said urban gang, have you engaged in any criminal activity?”
“We just living, that’s all.”
“Does ‘just living’ include possessing, distributing, selling illegal substances?”
“Don’t know nothing about it.”
“Several thousand dollars’ worth of illegal substances were confiscated from the building which serves as Banger headquarters.”
“Cops plant it there.”
“Did they also plant the equipment and supplies used to generate false identification and to commit identity theft?”
“Don’t know nothing about it.”
“Did you, as a member of the aforesaid urban gang, participate in coercing residents and shopkeepers in your area to make payments to you or other members under the threat of property damage or personal injury?”
“Nuh-uh, people they pay us to protect them. We keep people safe ’cause cops is wheeze.”
Eve sat back. “You’re off the streets, you’re going in a cage. We have officers out right now in your neighborhood taking statements from people you threatened, coerced, intimidated, and physically harmed for profit.”
“They liars.”
“If you were protecting them,” Peabody said helpfully, “they’ll be grateful and