“Stolen? We don’t have a theft complaint.”
“You will immediately after we’re free to file one. Mr. Kapak works in an industry that requires him to be at work late at night. His first notification that the vehicles weren’t parked at one of his clubs came from you—a police officer—at seven this morning, two hours ago, and six hours before he would usually be awake. The fact that he hasn’t reported the theft yet doesn’t prove it’s not a theft.”
“And it doesn’t prove it was, either.” He studied Kapak. “I don’t know you at all, but I had assumed you were a semilegitimate businessman.”
Ospinsky was getting angry. “What exactly does that mean?”
Slosser kept his eyes on Kapak, as though he had spoken. “You’re in a business that’s perfectly legal most of the time, but not very nice. You’re selling people things that aren’t good for them. And you keep bouncers and backup men on the payroll, but not to protect your customers. It’s the way the business works. I haven’t seen anything in your files that makes you stand out or worries me. Until now”
Kapak held his hand up so Ospinsky wouldn’t go into an oration. “What do you see now?”
“I’ve got to be honest with you. Coming in here with your lawyer all paranoid and you sitting there stone-faced and sullen just to tell me why your two cars turned up on a deserted construction site this morning, well, it doesn’t make me feel good about you. It’s the way a small-time guy running a criminal enterprise acts. And I’m not just guessing. I’ve spent a lot of time with people like that. Maybe after I’ve got my pension vested next year, I’ll quit and go to law school and make some real money. I know exactly what I’ll tell my clients. ‘Don’t act like you’re guilty.’ Simple.”
“Are you advising my client to waive his right to legal counsel?”
“I’m just saying it might be a good strategy to behave differently. If you come in and act like you’re preparing a legal defense when all you’re doing is reporting that you’re a victim of a crime, a cop gets suspicious. He wonders what you’re hiding.”
Manco Kapak said, “You’re right.” He looked at Ospinsky for a moment. “Gerry, maybe you ought to be getting to your office. Thanks for coming.”
Ospinsky said, “Do you think this man is trying to help you?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll call you later.”
Ospinsky shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He stood, stuffed his yellow notepad into his briefcase, and assumed an unnaturally straight posture to salvage his dignity, then left the room without looking back.
“I didn’t mean to offend him,” Slosser lied. “I was just making conversation. When you go into a police station, you generally have some specific business in mind. In this case maybe you want to report a car theft. You’ll be sent to talk to an auto theft officer. This may be the first time you’ve had a car stolen, but it isn’t his first. On average he’s seen maybe a thousand grand theft autos a year since the day he started. He knows exactly what you’re going to say and how you’re going to act. If you do or say something he doesn’t expect, he wonders why. He won’t stop until he knows the answer.”
Kapak said, “I hope you understand that for an ordinary man, it’s hard to know how to react to an early morning summons from the police.”
“You put on your shoes and come down and have a chat. Unless you’ve got something to worry about.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like maybe there are drugs in the Hummers. Or blood. Or maybe you think I’m going to find out that there’s a child in Intensive Care at Cedars with Hummer tracks across his back.”
“None of that is true, I can tell you. I don’t get involved with anything that’s illegal. I run two gentlemen’s clubs, a dance club, a gym, and a couple of other businesses. Some years have been good, and some bad, but I never have time for things like drugs or whatever.”
“Is this a good year or a bad year?”
“A bad year. Did I tell you I got robbed?”
“Yes.”
“And besides that, my health isn’t too good.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m tired all the time. You can’t put your finger on when it happened, but you know you’re not the man you were. That’s old age. And it seems like I’m getting robbed all the time. First it’s a guy with a gun to my head, and now two expensive vehicles turned into junk.” Kapak could feel each of the hundreds of tiny scratches and punctures from the broken glass on his skin. Every time he shifted in his chair, he felt his shirt or his pants moving some tiny, unnoticed sliver of surgically sharp glass against the skin of his belly or genitals. He was being goaded toward madness like a bull in the ring, but he pretended to be a harmless, aging man. He used his torments to build an impression of candor.
“Maybe we can do something about the robberies, at least. Your lawyer wasn’t letting me ask you any questions. Is there anything that happened before last night that you haven’t thought to mention?”
“You’re my only source of information. I don’t think anybody who works for me knows the damned things are gone yet. They’re worth, like, fifty grand each. Were worth, I mean. You said they were impounded?”
“Yes. They were put on flatbeds with a crane and driven to impound.”
“Can my insurance company go look at them? I’d like to get a claim started. From the looks of those pictures, it could take a while.”
“Sure. Have them call me.” Slosser handed Kapak a business card from his coat pocket. “I’d guess there’s not much question they’re totaled. They looked like they were pushed from the fifth floor of the building.”
“Jesus. It sounds like a nasty prank or something. Do you think it was kids?”
“No. Adults.”
“What adult does this? If they took a car and drove it across the border to sell it, or to a garage to chop it for parts, I could agree, it’s adults. But if you wreck it completely, you can’t be making any money on that. Who does that but kids?”
“Both vehicles had their keys in them.”
“They did?”
“Yeah. That means your guys drove them there. So who was driving when it happened?”
“None of my people would do that. Somebody must have left the keys in them. Or maybe a burglar broke into the office and took the keys off the board on the wall.”
“Who could that be?”
“I couldn’t even give you a guess.”
“I suppose not,” Slosser said. He stood up. “Well, thanks for coming in.”
“No, thank you, Lieutenant” Kapak still had the mad bull’s determination. He stood up too, trying to make his painful movements seem only careful, the movements of an old man.
They parted in the hallway, and each went in a different direction. As Slosser walked back to his office, he smiled. He had managed to talk Kapak into getting rid of his lawyer for an interrogation, a feat for the record books, and one that would pay off later, because client and lawyer had lost confidence in each other. He still didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he could tell Kapak knew, and that it was something that would get him into serious trouble. That was plenty to accomplish before 10:00 in the morning.
Kapak walked toward the portico where he had entered the building, and he was satisfied. He had planted enough in Lieutenant Slosser’s mind to keep him busy for a while. Instead of hiding his surprise and being ashamed of it, he had used it to persuade Slosser that he was a victim of the theft and destruction of two expensive vehicles. He had planted some facts that might make Slosser draw the wrong conclusions. Since there was no hope of gain from wrecking a car, this could only be an attack on Kapak and his businesses. Slosser would try to find out who Kapak’s enemy was, and that would give Kapak a bit of room to work.