mean it then?”
“Lieutenant,” Stickler piped up. He was a nice-looking guy, thirties, strawberry-blond hair. “My client has already been evaluated numerous times. We have brain scans showing the damage from way back. He takes about twenty anti-psych drugs. He went off his meds. He’s not an aggressive guy. Are you, Charlie?”
Charlie shook his head. “Nope. I’m a nice guy.”
“You get real mad sometimes, Charlie? Just want to rip something up, really tear into somebody?” Rauser pressed.
“Don’t answer that,” Stickler ordered.
“Yeah,” Charlie said, really drawing the word out—Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. “I do get real mad.”
“Shit,” Balaki muttered. He had taken the chair next to me that Williams vacated. “He’s not showing any defensiveness at all. I do get real mad. Be hard to make a jury believe he’s okay to stand trial.”
“You ever kill anybody, Charlie?” Rauser asked.
“No, sir, Mr. Man.” Charlie shook his head violently.
“Oh, so you’re sayin’ you’re just into rape?”
Stickler held up a hand, raised his voice. “Don’t answer that. Lieutenant—”
Williams interrupted, speaking for the first time. “Your client is a person of interest in a homicide investigation, Counselor, and we had an agreement. You should advise him to answer or we will just pick him up again tomorrow and the next day and the next day until we have clarification. You get it?”
“Let’s talk about some dates,” Rauser said to Stickler. “If your client has a credible alibi, well, then we got no problem.”
Stickler’s color crawled all the way up his neck and flushed his cheeks. Wet patches were showing under his arms. “You have got to be kidding! Charlie? Charlie wouldn’t recognize his own ass if you handed it to him. Of course he doesn’t have an alibi. He can’t remember what he had for breakfast, can you, Charlie?”
“I didn’t get any breakfast,” Charlie said. “I’m hungry.”
Rauser looked down at his notes. “Charlie, you kind of made everyone believe you were living off the church, didn’t you? You implied they were supplying housing for you, then I find out you’re living in a fancy condo up by Inman Park.”
“It’s not against the law to be protective of a fortune,” Stickler said. “Charlie inherited quite a lot of money when his parents were killed. He has to be cautious. We’ve lectured him on this. Our firm handles the trust.”
“So how about this sob story about the wife and kids leaving you and all that?” Rauser shook his head. “Not true. You filed for divorce, Charlie. I’ve got the papers right here. And you had to be hunted down and served by the court before you would pay support. See why I’m wondering about you, Charlie? Sometimes you act like a dumb shit and other times you’re just a mean bastard.”
“Well, since I can’t find a question in there, I think we’re done here,” Stickler said, and looked at Charlie. “Come on, Charlie. It’s too hot in here anyway.”
“Yeah, it’s hot as a damn fuck in here,” Charlie said, and let loose the laugh we’d all come to know. “Neil likes it when I say fuck. I like Neil. Do you like Neil, Mr. Man?” He started to rise.
Rauser’s arm shot across the table and he grabbed Charlie’s wrist. “All that money and you’re pedaling around town in a courier uniform.”
“Work is an essential aspect of his ongoing recovery,” the attorney said. “These people have to have some sense of self-worth, Lieutenant.”
“Save it,” Rauser told Stickler. He hadn’t let go of Charlie. He was staring into his eyes. “That gets you in, doesn’t it, Charlie? That why Elicia Richardson and Lei Koto and the others opened the door for you? You delivering a package? You looking hot like you need some water?”
“I don’t know those people,” Charlie answered. He tried to withdraw his arm, but Rauser’s grip must have been like a vise.
“Poor Charlie at the door with a package, looks so hot and thirsty.”
“Lieutenant Rauser, release my client.”
Rauser stood. He leaned across the table, very close to Charlie’s face. “I hear you’re pretty good with a knife, Charlie. I need to see your knife.”
“Can you put him at the scene?” Stickler demanded. “That’s what I thought.” He pulled his jacket off the back of the chair and put his card on the table. “You have more questions, you call me, Lieutenant. Let’s go, Charlie.”
“That went well,” I muttered.
Balaki said, “Lieu just wanted to rattle his cage a little and see what he does next.”
But Rauser wasn’t done yet. As Stickler and Charlie prepared to leave