“Jim went by your place about two hours ago. Nobody answered the door.”
“I never heard the door.” He glanced up at Morgan, contempt filling his face. “Maybe your rookie partner went to the wrong door.”
“Your car wasn’t in the parking lot,” Morgan said.
“Then I’d already left, asshole. What else can I tell you?”
“So you were at home between two and five this afternoon?” Vicky asked.
“That’s right.”
“Was anybody with you?” Jim asked.
Nick held up his right hand. “Yeah, Mary Fist. I’m sure you know her well, jerkoff.”
“That’s not necessary,” Jim said. “We’re treating you with respect; you can treat us the same way.”
Nick let out a barking laugh. “I got a problem there, boyo. I don’t respect either one of you. So I guess I’d have to fake it.”
“Then fake it,”
Vicky snapped.
“Fuck you,” Nick snapped back.
“On your feet and assume the position,” Jim said.
“What? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Do it,” Jim ordered. “Do it or I’ll charge you with resisting the lawful command of a police officer.”
“You arresting me?”
“You’re going in for questioning,” Vicky said, seizing control back from Morgan. “Let us pat you down for weapons and we won’t use cuffs.”
“Why you cunt…”
“Now,” Morgan growled. His raised voice made several patrons turn to watch them.
The sudden attention seemed to embarrass Benevuto. “Alright, alright,” he said in a softer voice. “But can we do the pat down in the parking lot?”
“As long as you behave yourself,” Vicky said.
Morgan gave her a look that told her he thought it was a mistake to grant Benevuto’s request.
Benevuto reached into his pocket and then froze when he saw Morgan and Vicky tense. “I just want to pay for my drink,” he said. He removed a wad of folded bills held by a money clip, pulled out a ten, and placed it next to his half-finished drink. “I suppose you don’t wanna wait for me to get change.”
“Leave the whole thing,” Vicky said. “It’ll make the waitress remember you.”
Nick was alone in the interrogation room when Harry arrived at the office. Vicky and Jim filled him in.
“So he has no alibi for the time period when Bobby Joe was killed,” he said when they had finished.
“None,” Vicky replied. “And when we found him he was dressed in clothes that looked like they’d just come from the cleaner. I checked with Rourke and got an idea of what he wore to work today. It didn’t even come close. I’d like to get a warrant to search his condo.”
Harry held up a hand. “I don’t think we have enough probable cause for a warrant. Let’s interrogate him first, see what you come up with, and then we’ll decide where we go from there.”
“Are you going to question him?” Jim asked. There was an edge in his voice that Harry picked up on-as though he feared Harry might try to steal Benevuto away now that his own suspect was dead.
Harry shook his head, and glanced at each of them in turn. “I’ll watch through the glass. The interrogation is all yours.”
Vicky and Jim huddled outside the interrogation room, setting up strategy, as Harry entered the viewing area. He took a chair facing the one-way window. Nick Benevuto was seated no more than ten feet away, isolated and alone. Harry saw a lonely, beaten man, not the same pushy, thoroughly obnoxious detective he had worked with for more than five years. All the cockiness was gone from his eyes and Harry knew that any manifestation of it that he managed to force out would be little more than false bravado.
Nick’s head snapped around to the sound of the door opening and he watched Vicky and Jim enter and take chairs opposite him across a small metal table. There was a mix of relief and irritation in his eyes. Harry understood it. Suspects did not like to be isolated, especially in a small, closed, windowless room. They felt threatened by it. But they were equally threatened by the interrogation that followed. It was a confusing mix of emotions. Nick showed that now. He glared at his fellow detectives with open disgust. It was a feeling, Harry knew, that would never fully disappear, no matter the outcome. And he had little doubt that there would also be a dose of it for him as well.
Speaking to no one in particular, Vicky gave the date, the time, the location, and the names of all persons present; then advised Nick that the interrogation was being tape recorded, and that he had a right to have an attorney present.
Nick waved the statement off. “I don’t need a lawyer. If I decide I do, I’ll tell you your interrogation is over.”
“Fair enough,” Vicky said.
“Let’s start with Darlene Beckett,” Jim began, indicating that he would take the lead in the interrogation.
It was a smart move, Harry thought. Nick’s attitude toward women would keep him from dealing with Vicky with any degree of openness. On the other hand, by taking the secondary role, she could jump in and force an issue whenever an irritant was needed.
“Start wherever you want,” Nick said. “You can start with Marilyn Monroe. I didn’t kill her either.”
“You already admitted that you had a sexual relationship with Darlene. Isn’t that true?”
“I slept with her a couple of times. I was trying to get her to turn snitch for me, and I was trying to get close to her. I got a little too close. It was a mistake.”
“How many mistakes did you make?” Jim asked.
Nick glared at him. “Do you mean how many times did I fuck her? It’s okay, kid, you can say the word. Your tongue won’t turn black and fall out.”
Harry saw Jim’s jaw tighten, but he kept his cool. “How many times?” he asked again.
Nick gave out a little snort. “Three, four, I didn’t keep count. To tell you the truth, for all her looks she wasn’t that great.”
“Then why did you keep going back?” Vicky snapped.
Nick seemed pleased that he had irritated her. “I didn’t say she was terrible. I might even go back to a bitch like you for a second or third roll in the hay. Who knows?”
“Not on the best day of your life, slimeball,” Vicky retorted.
Jim raised a hand, calling for an end to it, and Nick laughed out loud. First round to the suspect, Harry thought.
“According to the younger Reverend Waldo you were pressing Darlene for sex, but it never happened,” Jim said. “At least that’s what she allegedly told him.”
“And?”
“Who’s telling the truth, you or him?”
“Was he fucking her too?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“No it’s not, rookie,” Nick barked, taking charge again. “If he was fucking her, why would she admit that she was balling me too? She might say I wanted to fuck her to make him jealous, but why tell him she’d already spread her legs for me?”
“Jealousy, that’s an interesting point,” Jim said. “You didn’t know that she was sleeping with him-with Reverend Bobby Joe Waldo?”
“I assumed she was sleeping with anybody who had a dick. That’s the kind of broad she was. For crissake, she slept with fourteen-year-old kids, didn’t she?”
“So you expected her to be promiscuous,” Jim said.
“Shit, it was a fact of life.” He leaned closer to them, lowering his voice in a mocking manner. “It was on TV, in the newspapers, it was no fucking secret. So, yeah, I expected it. I never went near the broad without a box of condoms in my pocket.”
“So you weren’t jealous of her other lovers,” Vicky said.
