'Which lot did it happen in?'
Perkins did the slit-eye again. 'Let's get this over with as quickly as possible, folks, and then you can all go home.'
The man with the white Fu Manchu said, 'How about telling us what happened so we can protect ourselves, Officer?'
Supportive rumblings.
Perkins said, 'Let's just take it easy.'
'No, you take it easy,' said the blond man. All you guys do is givejaywalking tickets out on the boulevard. Then, when something real happens, you ask your questions and disappear and leave us to clean up the mess.'
Perkins didn't move or speak.
'Come on, man,' said another man, black and stooped, in a nursing uniform. 'Some of us have lives. Tell us what happened.'
'Yeah!'
Perkins's nostrils flared. He stared out at the crowd a while longer, then opened the door and backed out.
The people in the lobby twanged with anger.
A loud voice said, 'Deputy Dawg!'
'Damned jay walking brigade.'
'Yeah, buncha stiffs-hospital sticks us across the street and then we get busted trying to get to work on time.'
Another hum of consensus. No one was talking anymore about what had happened in the lot.
The door opened again. Another cop came through, young, white, female, grim.
'Okay, everyone,' she said. 'If you'll just file out one by one, the officer will check your ID and then you can go.
'Yo,' said the black man. 'Welcome to San Quentin. What's next? Body searches?'
More tunes in that key, but the crowd started to move, then quieted.
It took me twenty minutes to get out the door. A cop with a clipboard copied my name from my badge, asked for verifying identification, and recorded my driver's license number. Six squad cars were parked in random formation just outside the entrance, along with an unmarked sedan. Midway down the sloping walkway 0 the parking structure stood a huddle of men.
I asked the cop, 'Where did it happen?'
He crooked a finger at the structure.
'I parked there.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'What time did you arrive?'
Around nine-thirty.'
'PM.?'
'Yes.'
'What level did you park on?'
'Two.'
