a rock, but then on page 305 the detectives started lying to him and setting traps.
W ALKER : That’s not going to work, Alonzo. You gotta give us something here. You can’t just sit there and say no, no, no, I don’t know anything, and expect to walk out of here. We know you know something. I mean, we know it, son.
W INSLOW : You don’t know shit. I ain’t ever seen that girl you been talking about.
W ALKER : Really? Then how come we got you on tape dropping her car in that parking lot by the beach?
W INSLOW : What tape you got?
W ALKER : The one of the parking lot. We got you getting out of that car and nobody else goes near it until they find the body in it. That puts this whole thing on you, man.
W INSLOW : Nah, it ain’t me. I didn’t do this.
As far as I knew from the discovery documents the defense lawyer had given me, there was no video that showed the victim’s Mazda being left in the parking lot. But I also knew that the U.S. Supreme Court had upheld the legality of the police’s lying to a suspect if the lie would reasonably be seen as such by an innocent person. By spinning everything off the one piece of evidence they did have—Winslow’s fingerprint on the rearview mirror—they were within bounds of this guideline and they were leading Winslow down the path.
I once wrote a story about an interrogation where the detectives showed the suspect an evidence bag containing the gun used in the murder. It wasn’t the real murder weapon. It was an exact duplicate. But when the suspect saw it, he copped to the crime because he figured the police had found all the evidence. A murderer was caught but I didn’t feel too good about it. It never seemed right or fair to me that the representatives of our government were allowed to employ lies and tricks—just like the bad guys—with full approval of the Supreme Court.
I read on, skimming another hundred or so pages, until my cell phone rang. I looked at the screen and realized I had read right through my coffee meeting with Angela.
“Angela? Sorry, I got tied up. I’m coming right down.”
“Please hurry. I need to finish today’s story.”
I hustled down the steps to the first-floor cafeteria and joined her at a table without getting any coffee. I was twenty minutes late and I saw her cup was empty. On the table next to it was a stack of paper turned print-side down.
“You want another latte?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
I looked around. It was midafternoon and the cafeteria was almost empty.
“Jack, what’s up? I need to get back upstairs.”
I looked directly at her.
“I just wanted to tell you face-to-face that I didn’t appreciate you guzzling today’s story. The beat is technically still mine, and I told you I wanted this story because it set up the bigger one I’m working on.”
“I’m sorry. I got excited when you asked all the right questions in the press conference and I got back to the newsroom and sort of exaggerated things. I said we were working on it together. Prendo told me to start writing.”
“Is that when you suggested to Prendo that we work together on my other story, too?”
“I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When I got back, he told me we were on it together. I take the killer and you take the victim. He also told me it was your idea.”
Her face colored red and she shook her head in embarrassment. I had now outted two liars. Angela I could deal with because there was something honest about her lying. She was boldly going for what she wanted. Prendo was the one that hurt. We had worked together for a long time and I had never seen him as a liar or manipulator. I guessed he was just choosing sides. I was out the door soon and Angela was staying. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was picking her over me. The future was with Angela.
“I can’t believe he ratted me out,” Angela said.
“Yeah, well, I guess you have to be careful who you trust in a
W ALKER : That’s not going to work, Alonzo. You gotta give us something here. You can’t just sit there and say no, no, no, I don’t know anything, and expect to walk out of here. We know you know something. I mean, we know it, son.
W INSLOW : You don’t know shit. I ain’t ever seen that girl you been talking about.
W ALKER : Really? Then how come we got you on tape dropping her car in that parking lot by the beach?
W INSLOW : What tape you got?
W ALKER : The one of the parking lot. We got you getting out of that car and nobody else goes near it until they find the body in it. That puts this whole thing on you, man.
W INSLOW : Nah, it ain’t me. I didn’t do this.
As far as I knew from the discovery documents the defense lawyer had given me, there was no video that showed the victim’s Mazda being left in the parking lot. But I also knew that the U.S. Supreme Court had upheld the legality of the police’s lying to a suspect if the lie would reasonably be seen as such by an innocent person. By spinning everything off the one piece of evidence they did have—Winslow’s fingerprint on the rearview mirror—they were within bounds of this guideline and they were leading Winslow down the path.
I once wrote a story about an interrogation where the detectives showed the suspect an evidence bag containing the gun used in the murder. It wasn’t the real murder weapon. It was an exact duplicate. But when the suspect saw it, he copped to the crime because he figured the police had found all the evidence. A murderer was caught but I didn’t feel too good about it. It never seemed right or fair to me that the representatives of our government were allowed to employ lies and tricks—just like the bad guys—with full approval of the Supreme Court.
I read on, skimming another hundred or so pages, until my cell phone rang. I looked at the screen and realized I had read right through my coffee meeting with Angela.
“Angela? Sorry, I got tied up. I’m coming right down.”
“Please hurry. I need to finish today’s story.”
I hustled down the steps to the first-floor cafeteria and joined her at a table without getting any coffee. I was twenty minutes late and I saw her cup was empty. On the table next to it was a stack of paper turned print-side down.
“You want another latte?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
I looked around. It was midafternoon and the cafeteria was almost empty.
“Jack, what’s up? I need to get back upstairs.”
I looked directly at her.
“I just wanted to tell you face-to-face that I didn’t appreciate you guzzling today’s story. The beat is technically still mine, and I told you I wanted this story because it set up the bigger one I’m working on.”
“I’m sorry. I got excited when you asked all the right questions in the press conference and I got back to the newsroom and sort of exaggerated things. I said we were working on it together. Prendo told me to start writing.”
“Is that when you suggested to Prendo that we work together on my other story, too?”
“I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When I got back, he told me we were on it together. I take the killer and you take the victim. He also told me it was your idea.”
Her face colored red and she shook her head in embarrassment. I had now outted two liars. Angela I could deal with because there was something honest about her lying. She was boldly going for what she wanted. Prendo was the one that hurt. We had worked together for a long time and I had never seen him as a liar or manipulator. I guessed he was just choosing sides. I was out the door soon and Angela was staying. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was picking her over me. The future was with Angela.
“I can’t believe he ratted me out,” Angela said.
“Yeah, well, I guess you have to be careful who you trust in a
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