“Fifteen or twenty minutes for me, if he cooperates,”
Dwight said. “What about you, King?”
“Fifteen minutes, tops.”
“
Sanaugustin’s wife protested sharply, but the crew
chief herded them both out of the office and the jailer
brought Sanaugustin down to the interview room.
When the migrant worker came strolling in, he was
obviously surprised to see two Anglos instead of his
friends. According to his booking sheet, Sanaugustin
was five-eight and thirty-three years old. He had straight
220
HARD ROW
black hair, wary dark eyes, a prominent nose, and a small
scar on his left cheek. His jeans, black sweatshirt, and
the unbuttoned plaid wool lumberjack shirt that topped
them were all a little worse for the wear after three nights
in jail. He hesitated in the doorway, but the jailer nudged
him inside and closed the door behind him.
Dwight gestured for him to take a seat and waited
while Millard King explained that he was the attorney
the judge had appointed to represent him yesterday and
that he was here to discuss those charges, but first this
officer, Major Bryant, had some questions for him.
Dwight had procured a tape recorder from the front
desk and as he set it up, King frowned. “What’s this
about, Bryant?”
“Ask him to state his name and address, please,”
Dwight said pleasantly.
Both men complied and Dwight added the date and
the names of those present.
“How long has he worked for Harris Farms?”
“Two years.”
“How did he know that Buck Harris was dead?”
They had released the identity of the mutilated body
last night, so it had been all over the morning news.
Nevertheless, Millard King drew himself up and said,
“
client of murder?”
“I have witnesses who can testify that he suspected
that Harris was dead before it was public knowledge.
All I’m asking is how did he know it before the rest of
us?”
“Okay, but I’m going to warn him that he doesn’t
have to answer if it self-incriminates.”
221
MARGARET MARON
“Fine, but remind him that we now have his finger-
prints on file.”
“You have the killer’s fingerprints?”
