pushing life up in Marquette because of a partial thumbprint found in his uncle’s basement. What we can and can’t build a case on depends on how many people want it out of sight and how bad. Mind telling us where you were last night between seven and midnight? The M.E. tells us Buddy boy ran out of breath somewhere in there.”
“I thought you had it tailored for the girl.”
He gave me his Lon Chaney Jr. smile, all bottom teeth. “I’m a civil servant. Humor me.”
“Rosecranz, the super in my building, can tell you I was in my office from about seven till nine. After that I was with Fern Esterhazy—that’s Bud’s stepsister—in The Chord Progression. The bartender there may remember me, though he won’t want to. We went from there to her place in Grosse Pointe. I left there at two-thirty.”
Zorn leered. Proust pulled at his lower lip. “We’ll talk to all of them. Then where’d you go?”
“Where does anyone go at two-thirty on a Christmas morning in Detroit?” I asked. “Skinny-dipping in Lake St. Clair.”
“With or without the Esterhazy cunt?” put in the sergeant.
“Shut up, shithead,” Proust snapped. “We can do this smooth or we can do this rough, Walker. The book says we got to let you call a lawyer, but it don’t say we can’t show you the system first.”
“On what charge? I came up here voluntarily.”
“We forgot. Cops are human too.”
“Says you.”
His expression didn’t change. He’d heard lots worse plenty of times. “Where were you from two-thirty until my men came to get you at eight?”
“In bed, like I told your boy Zorn.”
We watched each other. Finally he said: “That’s it?”
“I’m smart enough to come up with something better if it weren’t true.”
“I know you, Walker. You’re dumb-smart. You’re hoping that’s just what we’ll think.”
I burned tobacco. Here was where I was going to bail out with my story about getting euchred into giving a suspected murderess a lift. If it had been anyone else but Proust asking the question I might have. I burned tobacco and said nothing. The assistant chief made brief eye contact with Zorn, who came away from the wall with his head down. His coat was open and he had his fur hat shoved back past a black widow’s peak as sharp as a fish knife.
“We know what you was doing,” he said. “You picked up the Royce cunt, or she picked you up, and you delivered her out of town, probably across the line in Ohio. Maybe Canada, but that’s a sucker play and we don’t figure you for that much of a sucker. That’s why we found your card in front of the door where someone who’s in a hurry might drop it on their way out. But like the chief said, us cops are human. We all got sour memories. Chances are we’ll forget your name and what you look like once we got a line on the girl.”
“You’re missing Christmas morning, Sergeant,” I said.
“Quit fucking around and read him his rights!” spat Proust,
“Charge?” Bloodworth had stopped fooling with the loose thread.
“We’ll fill in that part later.”
Zorn said, “Then can I check out, Chief? I’m working for free now an hour.”
Proust wasn’t listening. He was looking at the black detective. “You stay here, Officer. We’ll talk about your loose gums and why you look at me like you just stepped in something every time I give a simple order. Just because the mayor says I got to take you don’t mean I got to take your crap.”
“Okay.” Bloodworth’s jaw muscles twitched.
“Okay what, damn you?”
“Okay, Chief.”
“Okay.” He swung both barrels on me. “I’m not half as stupid as you think, Walker. No one could be. I know you’re looking for headlines. ‘Private Eye Refuses to Betray Client.’ Pick up a little free advertising at the city’s expense. Only it won’t dry with me. I got an in with the local press and I can make you stink so high no client will come near you without a gas mask. That’s if I get soft
“I thought you had it tailored for the girl.”
He gave me his Lon Chaney Jr. smile, all bottom teeth. “I’m a civil servant. Humor me.”
“Rosecranz, the super in my building, can tell you I was in my office from about seven till nine. After that I was with Fern Esterhazy—that’s Bud’s stepsister—in The Chord Progression. The bartender there may remember me, though he won’t want to. We went from there to her place in Grosse Pointe. I left there at two-thirty.”
Zorn leered. Proust pulled at his lower lip. “We’ll talk to all of them. Then where’d you go?”
“Where does anyone go at two-thirty on a Christmas morning in Detroit?” I asked. “Skinny-dipping in Lake St. Clair.”
“With or without the Esterhazy cunt?” put in the sergeant.
“Shut up, shithead,” Proust snapped. “We can do this smooth or we can do this rough, Walker. The book says we got to let you call a lawyer, but it don’t say we can’t show you the system first.”
“On what charge? I came up here voluntarily.”
“We forgot. Cops are human too.”
“Says you.”
His expression didn’t change. He’d heard lots worse plenty of times. “Where were you from two-thirty until my men came to get you at eight?”
“In bed, like I told your boy Zorn.”
We watched each other. Finally he said: “That’s it?”
“I’m smart enough to come up with something better if it weren’t true.”
“I know you, Walker. You’re dumb-smart. You’re hoping that’s just what we’ll think.”
I burned tobacco. Here was where I was going to bail out with my story about getting euchred into giving a suspected murderess a lift. If it had been anyone else but Proust asking the question I might have. I burned tobacco and said nothing. The assistant chief made brief eye contact with Zorn, who came away from the wall with his head down. His coat was open and he had his fur hat shoved back past a black widow’s peak as sharp as a fish knife.
“We know what you was doing,” he said. “You picked up the Royce cunt, or she picked you up, and you delivered her out of town, probably across the line in Ohio. Maybe Canada, but that’s a sucker play and we don’t figure you for that much of a sucker. That’s why we found your card in front of the door where someone who’s in a hurry might drop it on their way out. But like the chief said, us cops are human. We all got sour memories. Chances are we’ll forget your name and what you look like once we got a line on the girl.”
“You’re missing Christmas morning, Sergeant,” I said.
“Quit fucking around and read him his rights!” spat Proust,
“Charge?” Bloodworth had stopped fooling with the loose thread.
“We’ll fill in that part later.”
Zorn said, “Then can I check out, Chief? I’m working for free now an hour.”
Proust wasn’t listening. He was looking at the black detective. “You stay here, Officer. We’ll talk about your loose gums and why you look at me like you just stepped in something every time I give a simple order. Just because the mayor says I got to take you don’t mean I got to take your crap.”
“Okay.” Bloodworth’s jaw muscles twitched.
“Okay what, damn you?”
“Okay, Chief.”
“Okay.” He swung both barrels on me. “I’m not half as stupid as you think, Walker. No one could be. I know you’re looking for headlines. ‘Private Eye Refuses to Betray Client.’ Pick up a little free advertising at the city’s expense. Only it won’t dry with me. I got an in with the local press and I can make you stink so high no client will come near you without a gas mask. That’s if I get soft
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