Bouncing off the walls. PCP, Teddy? Or did you get hold of some skanky meth?”
Jack stomps on him, four times, hard.
Teddy balls up.
“C’mon,” Jack says. “It’s an arson. You’ll get eight, serve what, three? You can do three.”
Teddy’s lying on the floor sucking for breath.
Bentley’s turned away, his face into the corner.
“Or do you want to start again, Teddy?” Jack asks. “Because this time I’m really going to
hurt
you. I go about two twenty, so if I jump and land on your back …”
“Maybe I did the fire.”
“Maybe?”
“I did the fire,” Teddy says. “But Azmekian hired me to do it and I’ll say that in court.”
Jack feels the weight of the world go off his shoulders. He’s been carrying Guzman’s life and he didn’t want to drop it.
About ten seconds later Teddy’s in the chair, writing like mad. Gives it up totally. When he’s done, Bentley says to him, “Asshole, a guy
died
in the fire. You just wrote yourself a murder beef.”
Which just cracks Bentley up.
Jack’s down the hall, he can hear Bentley laughing and Teddy screaming,
You motherfuckers! You lying asshole motherfuckers!
Gets over that, though, and
really
starts laying it on Azmekian, giving up other fires, all kinds of shit. Teddy’s digging like a fucking gopher, man, trying to tunnel away from that body in the warehouse.
Jack, he’s in the can puking.
He never lit a guy up before.
End of the workday, he goes and finds his dad and they surf until it’s black out. Tells Letty he doesn’t want company that night.
27
The story on Jack Wade, Part Three.
Jack’s on the stand in Azmekian’s criminal trial.
Jack listens to the DA’s question, turns to the jury and says, “The modus operandi of the fire matched that of several known arsonists, including Mr. Kuhl. We brought Mr. Kuhl in for questioning, confronted him with the evidence against him, and he wrote a statement confessing to setting the fire and implicating Mr. Azmekian.”
“What sort of evidence?”
Jack nods. “Mr. Kuhl left behind one of the gasoline cans at the scene, and we found fingerprints that matched Mr. Kuhl’s.”
Jury’s eating him up.
“Was Mr. Kuhl under any duress to sign the statement?”
Jack smiles. “None.”
The DA calls Kuhl, who looks properly criminal-like in jailhouse Day-Glo orange. Kuhl’s in County awaiting his own trial, so he has a lot riding on his testimony. He doesn’t get the job done on Azmekian, he gets to carry the dead night watchman. They get through the preliminaries and then the DA throws the big fat pitch across the plate.
“Did you set the fire at the Atlas Warehouse?”
“No.”
Goddamn Billy’s in the gallery and he about swallows his teeth because Cal Fire has denied Azmekian’s fire claim based on Teddy Kuhl’s statement. Azmekian filed a lawsuit, of course, and they’re three months from the civil trial. Which will be a slam dunk if Azmekian has to shuffle to the stand in ankle bracelets.
The DA isn’t all that thrilled, either. He gulps and asks a question that provides commuter entertainment in the Greater Orange County legal community for weeks to come.
He asks, “You
didn’t
?”
“Nope.”
The DA goes back to his table and starts scrambling through his papers. Comes up with Kuhl’s statement, and starts reading it out loud. Then asks, “Didn’t you write this statement and testify to its truth under oath?”
“Yeah,” Kuhl says, and pauses with a jailhouse joker’s perfect timing. “But I lied.”
Jack gets this sinking feeling.
His career, going right through the floor and into the shitter.
As the DA croaks, “No further questions.”
Azmekian’s lawyer has a few, though.
“You said you lied in that statement, Mr. Kuhl.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you lie?”
Kuhl grins at Jack, then says, “Because Deputy Wade there was beating the crap out of me.”
He goes on with great glee to say that Wade threatened to really hurt him if he
Jack stomps on him, four times, hard.
Teddy balls up.
“C’mon,” Jack says. “It’s an arson. You’ll get eight, serve what, three? You can do three.”
Teddy’s lying on the floor sucking for breath.
Bentley’s turned away, his face into the corner.
“Or do you want to start again, Teddy?” Jack asks. “Because this time I’m really going to
hurt
you. I go about two twenty, so if I jump and land on your back …”
“Maybe I did the fire.”
“Maybe?”
“I did the fire,” Teddy says. “But Azmekian hired me to do it and I’ll say that in court.”
Jack feels the weight of the world go off his shoulders. He’s been carrying Guzman’s life and he didn’t want to drop it.
About ten seconds later Teddy’s in the chair, writing like mad. Gives it up totally. When he’s done, Bentley says to him, “Asshole, a guy
died
in the fire. You just wrote yourself a murder beef.”
Which just cracks Bentley up.
Jack’s down the hall, he can hear Bentley laughing and Teddy screaming,
You motherfuckers! You lying asshole motherfuckers!
Gets over that, though, and
really
starts laying it on Azmekian, giving up other fires, all kinds of shit. Teddy’s digging like a fucking gopher, man, trying to tunnel away from that body in the warehouse.
Jack, he’s in the can puking.
He never lit a guy up before.
End of the workday, he goes and finds his dad and they surf until it’s black out. Tells Letty he doesn’t want company that night.
27
The story on Jack Wade, Part Three.
Jack’s on the stand in Azmekian’s criminal trial.
Jack listens to the DA’s question, turns to the jury and says, “The modus operandi of the fire matched that of several known arsonists, including Mr. Kuhl. We brought Mr. Kuhl in for questioning, confronted him with the evidence against him, and he wrote a statement confessing to setting the fire and implicating Mr. Azmekian.”
“What sort of evidence?”
Jack nods. “Mr. Kuhl left behind one of the gasoline cans at the scene, and we found fingerprints that matched Mr. Kuhl’s.”
Jury’s eating him up.
“Was Mr. Kuhl under any duress to sign the statement?”
Jack smiles. “None.”
The DA calls Kuhl, who looks properly criminal-like in jailhouse Day-Glo orange. Kuhl’s in County awaiting his own trial, so he has a lot riding on his testimony. He doesn’t get the job done on Azmekian, he gets to carry the dead night watchman. They get through the preliminaries and then the DA throws the big fat pitch across the plate.
“Did you set the fire at the Atlas Warehouse?”
“No.”
Goddamn Billy’s in the gallery and he about swallows his teeth because Cal Fire has denied Azmekian’s fire claim based on Teddy Kuhl’s statement. Azmekian filed a lawsuit, of course, and they’re three months from the civil trial. Which will be a slam dunk if Azmekian has to shuffle to the stand in ankle bracelets.
The DA isn’t all that thrilled, either. He gulps and asks a question that provides commuter entertainment in the Greater Orange County legal community for weeks to come.
He asks, “You
didn’t
?”
“Nope.”
The DA goes back to his table and starts scrambling through his papers. Comes up with Kuhl’s statement, and starts reading it out loud. Then asks, “Didn’t you write this statement and testify to its truth under oath?”
“Yeah,” Kuhl says, and pauses with a jailhouse joker’s perfect timing. “But I lied.”
Jack gets this sinking feeling.
His career, going right through the floor and into the shitter.
As the DA croaks, “No further questions.”
Azmekian’s lawyer has a few, though.
“You said you lied in that statement, Mr. Kuhl.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you lie?”
Kuhl grins at Jack, then says, “Because Deputy Wade there was beating the crap out of me.”
He goes on with great glee to say that Wade threatened to really hurt him if he
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