himself, because how could the twine and tape walk out of there under their own power?"
"Right, okay. But first before they take anything out of there they knock him around a little, and they do some fairly impressive superficial damage, you'll see photos we took of him in the file. Then they tie him up and tape him up, his mouth, and maybe they rip it halfway off for him so he'll be able to make the call when it's time."
"Or maybe they've got him tied loosely enough that he can get a hand free and do what he has to do and then slip it back under the twine."
"I was coming to that. Jesus, don't I wish those blues had been a little slower to cut him loose."
I said, "Anyway, they clear out and he waits as long as he can and then calls 911."
"Right. I don't see any holes in that."
"No."
"I mean, show me some other way it makes sense that he's alive. They just killed her, she's lying there dead, so why would they tie him up when it's so much easier to kill him?"
"They already tied him up and taped his mouth before they did her."
"Oh, right, that's his story. Even so, why leave him alive? He can ID the both of them all day long, and they're already going to hang for doing her-"
"Not in this state."
"Don't remind me, will you? Point is they're already down for Murder Two for doing her, they don't make it any worse for themselves by doing him while they're at it. They got the pry bar, all they gotta do is hit him a lick upside the head, as our little brown brothers would say."
"Maybe they did."
"Did what?"
"Hit him hard enough so that they thought he was dead. Remember, they just killed her, and maybe they didn't plan on it, so-"
"You mean if he's telling the truth."
"Right, playing devil's advocate for a minute. They killed her unintentionally-"
"Just happened to get her panty hose accidentally wrapped around her throat-"
"- and they don't exactly panic, but they're in a hurry, they hit him a shot and he's unconscious and they think he's probably dead, that hard a shot with a steel bar ought to kill a man, and all they want to do is get the fuck out, they don't want to take his pulse, see if he's got enough breath left to fog a mirror."
"Shit."
"You see what I mean."
He sighed. "Yeah, I see what you mean. That's why it's an open file. The evidence is inconclusive and the facts we've got'll support any theory you want." He stood up. "I want some coffee," he said. "Can I get you some?"
"Sure," I said. "Why not?"
* * *
"I don't know why the coffee's so bad," he said. "I really don't. We used to have this machine, you know, coin-operated, and you can never get a halfway decent cup of coffee out of one of them. But we chipped in and bought one of these electric drip pots, and we use premium coffee, and it comes out tasting like this. I think there must be some law of nature, you're in a station house, the coffee has to taste like shit."
It didn't taste that bad to me. He said, "If we ever clear this one, you know how it'll happen."
"A snitch."
"A snitch hears something and passes it on, or one of the geniuses steps on his cock and we pick him up for something heavy, and he tries to do himself some good by ratting out his partner. And Thurman, assuming we're right and it was his game."
"Or even if it wasn't."
"What do you mean?"
I said, " 'She was alive and kicking when we left there, man. We put the pork to her but I swear she liked that part of it, an' we sure didn't wrap no stockings around her neck. Musta been her husband, decided to get hisself an instant divorce.' "
"Jesus, that's just how they'd say it."
"I know. That's what they'd say if Thurman was a hundred percent innocent. 'Wasn't me killed her, she was alive when I left.' And it could even be true."
"Huh?"
"Say it was a crime of opportunity. The Thurmans come home, walk in on a robbery in progress. The skells rob them and beat him up and rape her because they're animals, so why not act like it? Then they leave, and Thurman gets a hand
"Right, okay. But first before they take anything out of there they knock him around a little, and they do some fairly impressive superficial damage, you'll see photos we took of him in the file. Then they tie him up and tape him up, his mouth, and maybe they rip it halfway off for him so he'll be able to make the call when it's time."
"Or maybe they've got him tied loosely enough that he can get a hand free and do what he has to do and then slip it back under the twine."
"I was coming to that. Jesus, don't I wish those blues had been a little slower to cut him loose."
I said, "Anyway, they clear out and he waits as long as he can and then calls 911."
"Right. I don't see any holes in that."
"No."
"I mean, show me some other way it makes sense that he's alive. They just killed her, she's lying there dead, so why would they tie him up when it's so much easier to kill him?"
"They already tied him up and taped his mouth before they did her."
"Oh, right, that's his story. Even so, why leave him alive? He can ID the both of them all day long, and they're already going to hang for doing her-"
"Not in this state."
"Don't remind me, will you? Point is they're already down for Murder Two for doing her, they don't make it any worse for themselves by doing him while they're at it. They got the pry bar, all they gotta do is hit him a lick upside the head, as our little brown brothers would say."
"Maybe they did."
"Did what?"
"Hit him hard enough so that they thought he was dead. Remember, they just killed her, and maybe they didn't plan on it, so-"
"You mean if he's telling the truth."
"Right, playing devil's advocate for a minute. They killed her unintentionally-"
"Just happened to get her panty hose accidentally wrapped around her throat-"
"- and they don't exactly panic, but they're in a hurry, they hit him a shot and he's unconscious and they think he's probably dead, that hard a shot with a steel bar ought to kill a man, and all they want to do is get the fuck out, they don't want to take his pulse, see if he's got enough breath left to fog a mirror."
"Shit."
"You see what I mean."
He sighed. "Yeah, I see what you mean. That's why it's an open file. The evidence is inconclusive and the facts we've got'll support any theory you want." He stood up. "I want some coffee," he said. "Can I get you some?"
"Sure," I said. "Why not?"
* * *
"I don't know why the coffee's so bad," he said. "I really don't. We used to have this machine, you know, coin-operated, and you can never get a halfway decent cup of coffee out of one of them. But we chipped in and bought one of these electric drip pots, and we use premium coffee, and it comes out tasting like this. I think there must be some law of nature, you're in a station house, the coffee has to taste like shit."
It didn't taste that bad to me. He said, "If we ever clear this one, you know how it'll happen."
"A snitch."
"A snitch hears something and passes it on, or one of the geniuses steps on his cock and we pick him up for something heavy, and he tries to do himself some good by ratting out his partner. And Thurman, assuming we're right and it was his game."
"Or even if it wasn't."
"What do you mean?"
I said, " 'She was alive and kicking when we left there, man. We put the pork to her but I swear she liked that part of it, an' we sure didn't wrap no stockings around her neck. Musta been her husband, decided to get hisself an instant divorce.' "
"Jesus, that's just how they'd say it."
"I know. That's what they'd say if Thurman was a hundred percent innocent. 'Wasn't me killed her, she was alive when I left.' And it could even be true."
"Huh?"
"Say it was a crime of opportunity. The Thurmans come home, walk in on a robbery in progress. The skells rob them and beat him up and rape her because they're animals, so why not act like it? Then they leave, and Thurman gets a hand
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