“No. He stays at the house, though.”
“And how do you know all this shit?” Hicks asks.
His tone is a little hard, but I still don’t let it get to me. I am surprised Davidson doesn’t put him in his place.
“’Cause I sat on the place for a bit,” is all I tell him.
I hand the photo back to Davidson, and it goes in the manila with the other one.
“That’s all you got?” I ask.
“Those were the only two that showed up.”
“Well, there’s two more,” I say, knowing there’s three, but I keep Jordan Super Fly stuffed in the suitcase to myself, for obvious reasons. “They were probably still working Sixteenth and Park while these two went back to the house to re-up.”
“Yeah, probably. That’s why we had a lot of the boys in that area stopped and identified. Most of them didn’t have any identification, and the ones that did were probably fake.”
He takes out three more photos and hands them to me.
“These guys had records, though. Didn’t lock them up, but I pulled these to show you.”
I look them over one by one. One of them I recognize as a crackhead that frequents the area of 16th and Park. The other two, young Latino boys, I don’t know.
“No, not these boys.”
I hand them back.
“Would you recognize the other subjects if you saw them again?” Davidson asks.
“Hell yeah. The two you got, they talking?”
“No. They lawyered up right away.”
“You got some goods on them, though? I mean once you hit the place.”
“Oh yeah. Couple of guns…lot of drugs.”
“I knew you would. I’m assuming the girl’s a good witness.”
“She’s still at the hospital. She’s pretty messed up, mentally and physically, but we managed to get a positive ID on the two I showed you pictures of as her captors. They’re held without bond.”
“She brought up another guy who is more than likely involved. I only got his first name—Edgar. She mention him?” I ask.
“She told us about him. We’re looking into it.”
“But she should be okay?”
“She’ll be all right. Physically, I mean. She asked about you a couple of times. Apparently you’re her hero.”
“She knows I’m not a cop anymore, then?”
“I didn’t tell her. Even if I did, she wouldn’t have cared.”
“Well, happy she’s safe now.”
“Amen, brother,” Davidson says. He repositions the memo pad on his lap and twirls the pen between two fingers. “Okay, so when I last spoke to you on the cell, you said something about exigent circumstances that led you to kick in the door of the house.”
“Yeah, I did,” I say with a slight nod.
“Tell me about it.”
“First, where’s the bathroom? I gotta take a mean piss.”
“Back out the door and directly to the left. Hit the buzzer and I’ll let you back in.”
“Be right back.”
I walk back out.
I open the door to the men’s room. It has two sinks, three stalls, and two urinals. I scan the room as if I think it’ll have surveillance cameras, but I realize I’m being paranoid so I enter one of the stalls and lock the latch.
I look around the ceiling area again just to make sure, then remove the pill container from my front pants pocket. I close the toilet seat, straddle it backward, and pull out two capsules. I twist one of them open and squeeze the powder onto the inner part of the pill container’s cap so it’s a little pile. I do the same with the second because I want a big hit. I carefully set the cap on the toilet’s water container.
I twist the pill capsules back together and drop them into the pill container for later use, and flush the toilet for the noise. I pick up the lid and snort the pile of blow up my right nostril and then sniff a couple more times to bring it all in. I wipe the inner lid with my finger to gather the rest of the powder and rub it on my gums.
At the sink I check my nose, run a bit of water, sniff a couple more times, clean my nasal passages with a little water, and then wash my hands and exit.
I buzz to get in.
Davidson opens the door.
“I think I’ll take you up on that soda,” I say, and then walk in.
Fifteen
The cold soda feels good going down my throat; even the burning burp afterward feels good.
Davidson reclines in his chair with the memo pad on his lap and pen at the ready. He’s waiting for my answer to his question on how I came to discover the girl in the house.
Having been a cop gives me a certain advantage. I know the types of questions cops ask. I was up all night thinking about every possible question that Davidson might ask and how to answer it. How I came to find the girl is an obvious first question.
So I say, “First of all, my client does not know any of the boys you arrested and is not involved with anything illegal.”