“You claim to be smart. Know all about DNA. I’m sure you watch
A typical cop bluff. Lo wasn’t actually saying the police had fingerprints or ballistics evidence.
“We’re providing a chance here, Pinky. Work with us, we’ll try to help you out.”
“I ain’t messing with L’il Bud. You think I’m nuts?”
“How old are you, kid?”
Atoa didn’t reply.
“How old are you?” Lo barked.
“Eighteen.”
“I’m thinking your buddy is a wee bit older.”
“Pukui’s twenty-nine,” Hung said. “Been in the box four times.”
“I’m going to describe a hypothetical, then ask you something,” Lo said. “You know what a hypothetical is?”
“I ain’t stupid.”
“We’ll see.” Lo paused, as though framing his thoughts. “We got a kid who knows nothing and we got a guy who’s been through the system. We offer both the same opportunity. The catch is, only the first taker gets the deal.”
Another bluff, implying Pukui was also in custody.
“Here’s the question. A two-parter. Can you handle that?”
Atoa said nothing.
“Who rolls over? Who takes the fall?”
Atoa squeezed his lids shut and shook his head.
Lo waited.
Opening his eyes, Atoa leaned forward. “What you’re asking can get me killed.”
“Bad news for the dog,” Lo said.
Atoa ran a hand across his face and threw back his head. His windpipe bulged like a corrugated tube.
Lo and Hung looked at each other, expressions tense. The kid’s first utterance would indicate if they’d won or lost.
At last Atoa sat forward. He looked at Hung a long moment, then, “I talk to you, not him.”
“No problem. But he stays here.”
“All I did was drive.”
“If true, that will work in your favor.” Hung kept her voice neutral.
“You’ll look out for my dog?”
“I’m going to read you your rights now, Pinky.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Hung read from a small card. When she’d finished, “Do you understand what I just told you?”
“Yeah,” Atoa said. “I’m fucked.”
“Do you still want to talk to us?”
“Like I got a choice?”
“Yes, Pinky. You do. And you have the right to counsel.”
“What the fuck. Let’s go.”
“Tell me about Kealoha and Faalogo,” Hung said.
“Guys were sleeved.” Atoa used the prison term for tattoo-covered arms.
“Why the hit?”
“All I know is shit I overheard.”
Hung gestured “give it to me” with one hand.
“L’il Bud told Ted he wanted to lay it on hard.”
“Ted Pukui.”
Atoa nodded.
“You’re saying T’eo was sending a message?”
“You deaf or something? Yeah, that’s what I’m saying I heard.”
“What message?”
