by Jenna Baker
At the station, the men were separated into the two interview rooms. The cops wanted to make them sweat it out for a while, so we shot some interviews with Reid and Foxy before they went in. I positioned Reid and Foxy in the control room with Miguel behind the glass in the background. The lighting was hard and edgy and made them look tough.
“Tell me about the game plan,” I said to Reid from behind the camera.
Reid opened his mouth to speak, but Foxy raised a hand. “May I?” he asked Reid. Reid signaled that he should go ahead and speak. Foxy turned to me and smiled.
“In a situation where you have two suspects involved in the same crime, it is best to separate them as quickly as possible. You don’t want to give them an opportunity to discuss a game plan or formulate a lie. On the way over here we wouldn’t allow the suspects to speak and we separated them into two rooms for the interviews. We’ll be performing the classic ploy of telling one suspect that the other squealed and convincing him that if he cooperates, we’ll cut him a deal.”
“And will you cut him a deal?” I asked.
“We don’t have much power in that regard, but if a suspect is especially helpful, we can usually pull some strings.” Foxy explained.
“Do you think they’ll fall for it?” I asked.
“Probably. These two don’t seem like the brightest bulbs, if you know what I mean.”
“Detective Reid – do you have anything to add?”
Reid smiled shyly. “No, I think Fox-uh, Detective Flanagan covered everything.”
“Great,” I said and placed a hand on Mac’s shoulder, signaling him to stop filming.
As the cops got ready to enter the first interview room, Mac sat in the control room and made sure the cameras were positioned properly, that we had sufficient tape stock, and that the audio could be heard. Everything looked to be in order as Foxy and Reid headed in to interview Miguel.
I grabbed a seat next to Mac with Manny on the other side of me. “I feel like we need some popcorn up in here,” Manny said.
Miguel was relatively short, with long black hair. He was still dressed in his undershirt and boxers and looked rather weak and pathetic.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Foxy asked Miguel.
“No English,” Miguel said with anger in his eyes.
Foxy threw up his hands. “Great.”
Reid stood up and stared into Miguel’s eyes. “You better not be bullshitting me, compadre. It’s late and it’s gonna get even later if we have to wait for a translator. Are you sure you don’t understand?”
Miguel leaned in and looked Reid directly in the eyes. “I understand.”
Reid sat back and relaxed in the chair. “Good. Detective Flanagan, continue, please.”
“Do you know why we arrested you?” Foxy asked again.
“No,” Miguel said.
“We brought you in because you are a suspect in the murder of two individuals – John Walters and Jason Loudermilk.”
“I don’t know them,” Miguel answered.
“They went by the street names Chaser and Kitt. They ran immigrants across the border. Does that ring a bell now?”
“No.”
Reid stood up suddenly and addressed Miguel. “I don’t have time for this bullshit. If you’re not gonna be straight with us, we’re not gonna bother talking to you. We’ll just lock your ass up.”
Foxy followed Reid’s lead and stood up and walked out of the room – slamming the door.
“Shit,” I said out loud. I was really tired and I was hoping this jerk would just confess and let us go home.
“Hang on, Sharpe – it’s all part of the game,” Mac said and zoomed in on Miguel’s face. He seemed angry and maybe tormented, but I could have been imagining that. We all turned around and looked through the glass behind us as Foxy and Reid entered the second room.
They sat down and looked at Diego. “Diego, we have a little problem here,” Foxy began. “Your buddy in there is panicked, and he’s singing like a song bird. He’s telling me he saw you shoot Jason Loudermilk, street name Kitt, in cold blood. He also said you were driving the car when John Walters, street name Chaser, was run down.”
“You’re lying,” Diego said.
“Someone is,” Foxy continued. “See, one of the witnesses described a man with long hair as the shooter. You have short hair, but we’ve got your pal Miguel swearing up and down that you pulled the trigger.”
Diego seemed to go through a series of emotions. First he looked angry, then nervous, then in shock.
“Do you want to help us make sense of the situation? Or do you want to go down for your friend? The choice is up to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” Diego said.
“Okay, then let me explain to you your options,” Foxy said casually. “You can talk to me now if you’d like, or I can book you now and in six months when this goes to trial you can talk to the judge. I was just trying to save you some jail time, but maybe you like those guys messing with you in there. You like men, right, Diego?”
Diego’s face was turning red, and he was getting angrier and angrier. Reid hadn’t said a word, but he also hadn’t taken his eyes off Diego the entire time, and Diego kept glancing at him uncomfortably.
“So what’s it gonna be, pal?” Foxy asked.
Diego looked from Foxy to Reid and back to Foxy again. I could see that he was sweating now, and he looked like he might vomit at any moment. His body started shaking and the tears started to fall. He was starting to get hysterical, and he could barely speak. “I…didn’t want…to be…involved in this,” Diego managed to get out.
Foxy placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know pal, I know. Detective Reid, would you get our friend here a glass of water?”
Reid stood up slowly and walked out of the door. I jumped up and grabbed a pack of cigarettes I had been storing in the control room. I opened the door and ran out to hand them to Reid.
“Here, offer him one of these,” I said.
Reid looked at the cigarettes like I was holding a gun. “Since when do you smoke?”
“I don’t. I bought them a while back for just this very moment. Come on – it adds ambience.”
“But if I give him a cigarette, I’m gonna want one,” Reid said.
“Well, too bad. You’re the good guy and good guys don’t smoke.”
Reid begrudging took the pack, then grabbed a cup of water and headed back into the interrogation room.
Inside, Reid handed Diego the water and offered him a cigarette. Diego gratefully accepted the cigarette and lit up. I smiled as I watched them – I had my shot. The smoke was slowly filling the room, and Diego seemed to be enjoying the tobacco. All I could hope for at this point was for Diego to blow smoke in Reid’s face and for Reid to punch him out. Now, that’s entertainment! Instead, I had a small Mexican man, puffing a cigarette and trying to stifle his tears. It was a little pathetic to look at, but I had to remember that even if this man didn’t pull the trigger, he was an accessory to murder.
“We didn’t know which one of them did it,” Diego began. “Which one of them killed Pedro. Our families wanted vengeance – those gringos killed our friend, you know?”
Foxy nodded, and Diego continued. “Miguel said it was an eye for an eye. I wasn’t there when he hit that first guy, but he told me about it. I thought it was over, but then Rosa said we hit the wrong guy, you know? Miguel said he needed me to drive the cab while we got the other guy. I didn’t want to do it, but he made me.”
Inside the control room I squeezed Mac’s arm. “We got it,” I said.
“Congratulations, Madame Producer,” Mac said to me and smiled.
Inside the interview room, Foxy and Diego went back and forth some more as Diego explained the details of how Rose helped them with the Mexican connection and bringing people up north. He explained how he never meant to hurt anyone, but that Miguel was bad news and he was afraid of him. He was afraid, too, that Miguel would come after him for ratting him out, but the
n again, to his knowledge, Miguel was the rat.
Reid pulled out a sheet of paper and explained to Diego that his confession had been videotaped. He asked Diego to sign a document waiving his Miranda rights, which he did. Then Reid stood up and walked out of the room. He appeared in the control room a minute later. “Sharpe – do you need him to sign your release too?”
I smiled, impressed. “Yeah, but I can bring it in there – I know it’s not part of your job.”
“Just give it to me, Sharpe,” Reid said, and I handed it over.
Reid managed to get Diego to sign my release too. The man was so scared that he would have signed off his firstborn if it meant his freedom.
“Diego, we appreciate your help in this case, and we’re going to talk to the District Attorney on your behalf. In the meantime, we need to place you under arrest. By your own admission, you are an accessory to murder, and we have to go through the proper channels. Do you understand?” Foxy asked.
Diego nodded solemnly. He stood up, and Foxy placed a set of handcuffs on him behind his back. Reid stepped out and walked into the interrogation room Miguel was in. In the control room, we all swiveled our chairs around and watched as Reid entered the room. Miguel looked up, annoyed that he was still being held captive.
“You ready to talk?” Reid said.
“I ain’t got nothing to say,” Miguel said. “I want a lawyer.”
“Stand up,” Reid said.
Miguel stood slowly, confused. Reid turned him around and pushed him against the wall. I laughed because I knew he was being dramatic for the cameras.
“What you doing, man?” Miguel protested.
“I’m arresting you,” Reid said. “You don’t want to talk, right? So I’m just gonna send you to jail. You can arrange to talk with a lawyer there – you’ll need one.”
Reid cuffed him and hauled him out of the interrogation room. I beamed and whipped out my cell phone. It was almost five in the morning, but I didn’t care. I dialed Lenny’s home number.
I heard the usual hacking and coughing, and then finally Lenny got on. “Hello?”
“I got the story. When’s my deadline to deliver?”
“Day after tomorrow by six o’clock. Show airs Wednesday night. The editors already pulled some promo footage and I’m gonna get it over to the network tomorrow to start running.”
I was on zero sleep and I had less than forty-eight hours to deliver my episode, but that was the way it was with reality TV. I was running on adrenaline, and I figured it could keep me going for at least two more days. “Okay, I’m gonna run the footage over now before the traffic hits to get digitized. When does my editor start in the morning?”
“Ten. Leave him some notes on the assembly edit and I’ll have him throw it together for you. Plan to be in the office by three.”
Three o’clock was very generous of Lenny, and I appreciated it. Had he not been at the wedding and seen how hard I was working on this story, he would have never granted me such liberties, but he was offering, and I was going to take him up on it. “Thanks, Lenny.”
I heard a woman’s voice in the background. “Lenny, who’s calling you this early?”
“Nobody, baby, it’s work,” Lenny said to the woman.
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” I asked, not believing he had actually scored at Ginny’s wedding.
“Don’t worry, she’s on the groom’s side,” Lenny said. “I’d never go after your own blood.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, still shocked.
“Hey, Sharpe?”
“Yeah?”
“Nice work.”
He hung up the phone and I turned to Mac and Manny. “You guys are awesome – seriously. Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t get me emotional, Sharpe,” Manny said.
“Oh, stop, you’ll see me next week when we get our next assignment.” I turned to Mac. “Can you grab some shots of Miguel and Diego being led away in handcuffs? I’m gonna run to the office and drop off tonight’s tapes to be digitized. If you can grab some sound bites from the cops about solving the case, that would be good too. I’m gonna head out before the traffic hits.”
“Okay, Sharpe, we’ve got you covered,” Mac said.
I collected the various tapes from Mac and headed towards the door. “Tell Reid and Foxy I’ll talk to them later. Enjoy your day off tomorrow.”
On my way out, I spotted Reid walking with Miguel. I gave him a wave and I motioned with my hand that I would call him. As I stepped outside, I realized that my car was still at the hotel in Santa Monica. “Damn it!” I cursed. It was late and I didn’t want to ask Mac or Manny to drive me, so I called a cab.
As the cab cruised down the 405, I rolled down the window and felt the wind blowing through my hair. I was exhausted but exhilarated at the same time.
We pulled into the parking lot of the office. The lights were out and no one was there, but there was a drop slot in the front door for me to put my tapes in. I pulled out a notepad and gave the editor some notes on how he should assemble the episode. I listed key events and roughly the days and times that they occurred. Our tapes recorded with a time/date stamp on them, so it was easy to let editors know what footage to look for. I made some rough notes about the style I was going after, but I knew much of that would be hammered out when we sat together and worked on the piece. This was simply to get things off the ground.
I was about to place the videos and my notes in the slot when I felt a hand touch my wrist. I turned to see Missy staring at me. She had her hair in pigtails, and she wore Capri pants with a tank top that seemed to reveal every bone in her shoulders and upper rib cage. She had a smirk on her face as she stared at me.
“What are you doing here this early?” I asked her, pulling my wrist free from her skeletal grip.
“I just finished my edit. My show is all delivered,” she announced.
I rolled my eyes. “Big deal. I heard you got some crappy gang-banger crime and everyone squealed.”
“Hardly. I was up day and night with my crew trying to beat confessions out of these guys. I haven’t slept in the past three days.”
I was too tired to feign interest in her story. I hadn’t slept in a week, and I would be damned if she was going to stand here and brag about how hard she worked on her story. “Missy, that’s great. Now if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go home. I haven’t slept either.” I dropped the tapes and notes in the slot and then turned to her. I couldn’t resist taking a dig at her. “You probably heard that my episode will be the premiere, right?”
“I think Lenny needs his head examined,” Missy scoffed. “Did your mommy call in a favor or something?”
I glared at her. “My story can blow the socks off your piece of crap any day. I’m sure being number two hurts, but you might as well get used to it.”
Missy blew out a breath. “Please. Like I even care.”
I stared at her, making her sweat. “Oh, you care. Believe me. Well, goodnight.” I turned and walked towards my cab. I think I had picked up some bad cop techniques from Reid, and I was enjoying using them.
As I got in the cab, my heart was racing. I wasn’t normally so cruel, but it was kind of fun, too. I ordered the cabbie to take me to the hotel in Santa Monica to get my car. On the way over, it occurred to me that I still had my hotel room key, and it was much closer than going all the way back to the Valley. I decided I would spend the night. I was still pumped up on adrenaline and thinking about how I would cut my show together as we drove. As we neared the exit, I tried to do some relaxation techniques to calm myself down. I needed to sleep, and I wouldn’t be able to if my mind kept racing like it was. I walked into the room at 6:45 and had a flashback to the naughty deeds Reid and I had performed just a few hours before. I let the thoughts pass and threw the chain on the door before I dove into the bed and fell asleep.
Chapter 16.