Annie Lee moved her dense body into the glass room and sat down in front of the lieutenant's desk. Her face was empty, so April knew she'd decided to go with stubborn. Suddenly the woman made some sniffing noises as if something smelled bad. April knew the bad smell was her. She ignored it. She plunked a black tape recorder on the desk between them, punched the button, and started speaking in Chinese. She gave her name, the date, the time of day, the location, and who was in the room with her. Then, with a sense of amusement at the annoyance this would cause the lieutenant, she conducted her interview with Annie Lee in Chinese.
"Would you state your name and your address for the record," April asked.
Annie stared resentfully at the black box, then looked around for Madison Young. He wasn't available to offer the support she craved.
"Didn't someone take your statement at the scene last night?" April asked her.
"Not with one of these. Why do we need this?"
"It's for your protection. So no one can ever claim you said something you didn't say." April gave her a fish-eye stare.
The woman stared back.
"I'm Sergeant April Woo." April took out her notebook and turned to a clean page.
"I Annie Lee," the grandmother conceded and gave her address.
"Where are you employed, Annie?"
Annie Lee let her face reveal how much she did not like a much younger woman (especially a ranking one) calling her by her first name. "Work at Golden Bobbin. You know that already."
"We need to hear it in words. How long have you worked there?"
"Twenty years."
"Twenty years. That's a long time. What are your duties?"
"I'm a supervisor." Annie sat up a little straighter as she said this.
April didn't look up from her note-taking. "How long have you been a supervisor?"
"What does this have to do with the accident?"
April's stomach started to churn again. "I don't know yet. Are you in some kind of hurry?"
April was counting the silent communications. Now she got silence number 14:
You are inconveniencing me by taking up my important time, but I will accept it without complaint.
"How long have you been a supervisor?"
"Twelve years."
"And the eight years before that?"
"I worked on a sewing machine."
"What are your duties as a supervisor?"
"I'm charge of time clock. I open up. I count number of garments of each girl. I watch the girls. I watch the door."
"You watch the door. What do you watch the door for?"
Silence number 3:
You already know the answer to that question.
"You have to answer me in words, Annie. Why do you have to watch the door?"
"So nobody disturb."
"Nobody disturb what?"
"Busy place. Bosses no like trouble."
"Nobody like trouble, Annie. But you have some. You told me you're a boss yourself, a supervisor. So you must know all the girls very well. Tell me about the dead girl."
Annie shook her head. "Don't know."
"Well, I have a copy of the statement you made earlier to an officer on the scene that a woman jumped out of a window in the place where you are, by your own description, the supervisor. You are the one who called 911, and this call was made at ten p.m. Let's get a few things straight here. What were you doing at the Golden Bobbin at ten p.m.?"
"Just passing by."
"You were passing by at ten o'clock? You said you live on One hundred and tenth Street. That's thirty-five minutes away by subway."
"I saw someone jump from window," Annie said stubbornly.
April let the notebook drop to the desk. She looked up at the ceiling as if trying to figure this out. "You were passing by where?"
"Passing by Allen."
"Annie, the girl was found in the alley. You could not have seen her jump."
"No see her jump from street, from building."
"I thought you were passing by." "Yes, passing by. Then I went inside."
"How did you get inside?"
"The door was open. The light was on. I boss, so I worried."
"Annie, you've been working there for a long time. You have a lot of responsibility. You know all the girls who work there, you know what they get paid and what their stories are. You take care of things and watch the door. Do you like your boss? Is he good to you?"
Face impassive, Annie nodded.
"Is he so good to you that you're willing to go to prison for the rest of your life?"
"Not my fault. Stupid girl jumped. I see her jump, that's all."
"Annie, I'm going to tell you a little about how the law works. The law says if you kill someone, you go to jail."
"Not my fault."
"The law also says if someone else kills someone and you happen to be there and you tell lies about what happened, you go to jail for helping a murderer."
"No murder, accident," Annie insisted, clearly shocked. "I citizen," she added. That meant to her no trouble could come her way. She didn't care what the law said.
"Congratulations, but you can still go to jail if you break the law. Tell me the story of the dead girl. What's her name?"
"She very sick."
"In what way was she sick?" April asked angrily.
"Sick in head. Sick here." Annie banged her chest. "She like to stay there at night. Quiet."
"Oh, come on, Annie, that isn't going to work. What was a sick woman doing at the factory at night, and how did she happen to get her head beaten in?"
Annie looked startled for the second time.
"You weren't even there, were you?"
Annie opened her mouth to say something, then closed it.
"The girl was already dead when she went out the window. She was thrown out the window after someone beat her to death." April said this matter-of-factly. But her heart was racing, and she was furious.
"How do you know?" Annie asked.
"We know these things. We have the report from the doctors who examined her. She had head injuries that could not have been caused by a fall. You are the supervisor of this girl. Did you hit her and throw her out the window?"
Annie hung her head. "She was crazy girl. Sometimes you get a crazy girl."
"Did you hit the girl, Annie? I'm asking you a question."
No answer.
"I guess you have to be pretty crazy to jump out a window after you're already dead. But you didn't answer my question. Did you beat her and hit her on the head?"
"Not my fault if a girl is crazy."
"It's your fault if she dies in your factory."
"Not my fault. Talk to boss."
"Annie, I was just going to tell you that we
will
be talking to your boss. And your boss will not be talking to you again. So the next time you and I talk, you will not have him to tell you what to say. If you killed this girl, you will go to jail. If he killed this girl, he will go to jail."
Annie got a bright idea. "Someone else kill," she said.
"Okay, I'll bite. Who else?"
"Someone opened the door; that's why I went inside. I saw the door open. That's what I told them the first time." "What were you doing downtown at ten o'clock?"