Daniel lay in his sleeping bag, stunned by the violence and paralyzed with fright. By the time he was able to move, the prostrate man had ceased to moan. Daniel had not slept for the rest of the night. In the morning, after he packed his gear, he had walked over to the dead man. The image of his first corpse was still a vivid memory and Arthur Briggs resembled him in many ways. His eyes were sightless, his skin waxy, and his incredible energy had drained away.
Halfway back to Portland the adrenaline that had fueled his mad escape began to wear off and reality set in. Briggs was dead and a witness had seen him running from the cottage. Did the driver get a good enough look to identify him? It was dark, but the headlights had caught him before he could cover his face. Daniel felt sick. He had been jailed as a teenager and he had hated the experience. If he went to jail now it would be for murder.
As soon as Daniel was back in his apartment he ran into the bathroom and examined himself in the mirror. He could see no blood, but to be safe, he changed his clothes and put them in the washing machine in the basement. When he returned to his apartment, he tried to think of ways the police could connect him to the murder. He was pretty sure that he hadn't left fingerprints in the cottage, but the witness may have gotten a good look at him. Then there was Renee Gilchrist. He'd told her that Briggs wanted to meet him that night at the cottage. If she told the cops he was dead.
Suddenly Daniel remembered the recording of Briggs's call on his answering machine. The message would place him at the Starlight Road cottage at the time of the murder. Daniel had just finished erasing the tape when his phone rang. He waited. It rang again. Daniel picked up the receiver.
"Mr. Ames?"
"Yes."
"This is Detective Brewster of the Portland Police Bureau." Daniel's gut did a back flip. "We met the other night."
"Oh, right."
"I'm downstairs with another detective and some uniformed police officers. We'd like to talk with you."
"About what?" Daniel asked as he went to the window. Brewster was talking on a cell phone. Zeke Forbus was standing next to her. A uniformed officer was looking up at his window. Daniel pulled back.
"I'd rather not discuss the matter over the phone," Billie said. "Would you be willing to come downstairs?"
Daniel went through his options. He could stay in the apartment and the police would kick in the door and drag him out or he could go downstairs voluntarily. Either way he was going to be arrested; it was just a matter of how.
"Okay," Daniel said, "I'll be down in a minute."
Daniel looked around the apartment. His clothes were in the washing machine in the basement. The police would search his apartment, but they might not look downstairs. He started to leave when it dawned on him that he might be locked up. He needed to tell someone, but who? Daniel hesitated, then dialed Kate Ross. Her answering machine took the call.
"Kate, this is Daniel. The police are downstairs. I don't know what's going on," he said to protect both of them, "but check on me. If I'm not home I might be in jail."
Daniel hung up and locked the apartment. When he got to the ground floor he could see Brewster and Forbus waiting outside the door. He guessed that the uniforms would be on either side of it to grab him in case he had a gun. To avoid being roughed up, Daniel opened the door with one hand and held the other hand where it could be seen. As soon as he walked outside the two uniforms converged on him. One had his gun drawn. Daniel expected this, but it scared the hell out of him just the same.
"Please stand with your hands against the wall, Mr. Ames, and spread your legs," Zeke Forbus said.
"I'm not armed."
"Then there won't be a problem."
The frisk was fast and thorough. During the pat-down, the officer emptied Daniel's pockets and took his key ring.
"What is this about?" Daniel asked.
"We're investigating the murder of Arthur Briggs," Billie answered.
"Why are you talking to me?" Daniel asked. He immediately regretted saying anything when it occurred to him that most people would have expressed shock at the violent death of someone they knew.
"We have a witness who saw you driving away from the scene of the murder," Forbus said.
"We're here so you can explain why you were there," Billie told him. "If you have any information that can help us find Mr. Briggs's killer, we'd appreciate the help."
Daniel's mouth was dry. The only way the police could have found him this quickly was if the witness recognized him.
"I'd like to talk to an attorney before I say anything else."
"You seem like a nice enough person, Mr. Ames," Billie said. "If you have any explanation for what happened I'll try to help you."
Billie seemed so sincere that Daniel almost fell for her line, but he'd had run-ins with the police when he was on the street and he knew the game she was playing.
"Thank you, Detective, but I'd rather wait until I've talked to a lawyer."
Billie nodded. "We'll respect your wishes. Please turn around and put your hands behind you."
"Why?"
"I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Arthur Briggs."
Daniel rode in the back of a patrol car with his hands cuffed behind him. He spent the first few minutes of the trip to the Justice Center trying to get comfortable and the rest of it with his thoughts, because no one spoke to him during the ride. By the time the car parked in the police garage, Daniel was sick with worry.
The Justice Center was a modern, sixteen-story building in downtown Portland that was home to the Multnomah County jail, two circuit and two district courts, state parole and probation, the state crime lab, and the Portland police central precinct. Brewster and Forbus drove behind the car transporting Daniel and escorted him up to the detective division. Neither detective spoke to him except to tell him what to do.
The detective division was a wide-open space that stretched along one side of the thirteenth floor. Each detective had his own cubicle separated from the others by a chest-high divider. As soon as he was brought into the office, Daniel's cuffs were taken off and he was placed in a small, cinderblock holding cell. Light was provided by a harsh fluorescent fixture that was recessed in the ceiling. The only place to sit in the tiny room was a hard wooden bench that ran along the back wall. There were no other furnishings.
Forbus sat with Daniel for a few minutes. He explained that Daniel would be held in the cell for a while and told him that he could knock on the door if he wanted to use the rest room or needed a glass of water. Then he closed the door and drew a metal sheet across a small, tinted-glass window in the door, cutting off all contact with the world outside the cell. Daniel stretched out on the bench, placed an arm across his eyes to shield them from the light, and tried to relax.
Twenty minutes later Forbus reentered the room with a photographer who took several photographs of Daniel. As soon as the photographer left, Forbus gave the prisoner a flimsy, white, one-piece, disposable Tyvex jumpsuit made of paper that zipped up the front and felt slick and odd against his skin. The detective explained that Daniel would wear this suit until he was given a uniform in the jail.
When Daniel was dressed, Forbus led his prisoner across the hallway into a small interrogation room furnished with several, heavy wooden chairs and a table that was affixed to the wall. Daniel noticed a box of tissues on the table and wondered how many men had wept in this room.
Forbus made no attempt to question Daniel about the murder and Daniel had to fight an urge to open the subject. The detective asked Daniel's age, date of birth, and other statistical information for his custody report. He was tempted to refuse to answer the detective's questions, but he wanted to put off returning to the cell as long as possible. When Forbus had the information he needed he put Daniel back in the holding cell. His watch had been taken from him and he could only guess how long he stayed in the lockup, but it seemed like hours before he heard a key in the lock again and Billie Brewster came in.