A.32 Smith & Wesson skittered out of Patricia’s hand, fell to the ground, and discharged, the bullet slicing through the car’s rear passenger tire. Immediately, the car sank off balance. Marge stared at the hapless vehicle.
What was it with her and flat tires at the most inconvenient times?
By now Marge was riding Patricia’s back and had yanked her arms around as Oliver clamped on the manacles.
“That was dumb.” He straightened up and picked up the dancer’s purse. “What else do you have in here, Patricia?”
“My name is Marina and I don’t have anything in there!”
“You have Mace.”
“A girl needs protection!”
“What the hell is this?” Carefully Oliver pulled out a leather sheath. Inside was a seven-inch boning knife. He handled it gingerly, knowing that he could be looking at a murder weapon. “A gun and a knife and Mace? Are you planning to take on some terrorists?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Lady, you just tried to shoot me!” Marge exclaimed.
“I wasn’t trying to shoot anyone,” Patricia yelled back. “If you wouldn’t have jumped me, the gun wouldn’t have gone off!”
“Oh my God!” Marge’s heart was beating like a hummingbird. She didn’t want to say anything she’d regret, so she kept silent.
Patricia was yelling. “I was just trying to get rid of the gun so I wouldn’t get into trouble.”
Marge got off the dancer’s back and jerked her to her feet. “Guess what, Patricia! It didn’t work!”
DECKER WAS GRATEFUL that he had gone home instead of straight to work. It had forced him to shower, change, and eat and made him much more presentable for the long hours needed for the upcoming interviews. Patricia Childress a.k.a. Marina Alfonse had been charged with capital murder, ADW, weapons possession, as well as resisting arrest. She wasn’t going anywhere. Ivan Dresden was another story. He had been asked to come in voluntarily to answer a few routine questions about the Beemer, using the pretense that the police were planning to return it shortly.
Decker wanted to see whose story best fit the forensic facts. He figured that both of them were in on the crime. Whoever was deemed the more reliable would be tapped as the state’s witness against the other. It was possible that neither one would qualify, but he wouldn’t know that until he had heard both sides.
Since Oliver had dealt with Patricia before and since it was likely that Patricia favored men over women, he was elected the primary interviewer of the stripper. Decker would try his luck with Ivan Dresden. He was relieved when Dresden walked into the station house without his lawyer-not likely to remain that way once the questioning got started. It was Decker’s job to put Dresden in a talkative mood.
“Thanks so much for coming in, Mr. Dresden.” He did a quick once-over of his prey. The stockbroker had on a black muscle T, a pair of black jogging pants, and a sweat jacket. Athletic shoes on his feet. His hair was combed back and he was newly shaven. The man appeared comfortable and that was good. To make him even more comfortable, Decker had brought in two cups of coffee with packets of powder and sugar and laid them on the steel table: that along with three steel chairs composed the furniture in the room. He sat down, took a sip from one of the paper cups, then loosened his tie and tried to appear casual. “Just in case you want some coffee.”
“No.” Dresden was dour. “How long is this going to take?”
“How about some water?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I know.” Decker grinned. “That’s a police technique we learn at the academy. Never answer questions.”
Dresden wasn’t biting. “When do I get my car back?”
“Aren’t you curious why we took it in the first place?”
Dresden said, “Is that also a technique? To answer a question with a question?”
“You caught me.” Decker pulled out a pad of paper and his pen. “We’re trying to rule out the possibility that you had anything to do with your wife’s disappearance. We checked your condo and that was clean. Next step was the car.”
“Then why did you bother with a warrant?” Dresden sulked. “Why not just ask me? You could have checked the car.”
Decker wrote as he spoke. “We just like to do everything by the book.”
“And what book is that? The comic book?” Dresden shook his head. “You said you had a few questions and then I’d get my car back. I came here without my lawyer. I’m trying to be cooperative, but everyone has a limit.”
“Then I’ll sum things up for you,” Decker said. “We talked to Jimbo Jim Franco at Jim’s upholstery. You had the entire car redone about a month after the crash. I’m curious about that.”
“First of all, I didn’t redo the entire car,” Dresden said. “I changed the carpets and the upholstery. Roseanne had some kind of whitey, creamy color that looked too feminine for my taste.” He looked down at the tabletop. “Also the car reminded me too much of Roseanne. I wanted to keep the car, but I didn’t want a ghost riding around with me. Plus, I sold my own car to pay some debts. So if that’s a crime, sue me.”
“The upholstery was cream but the carpets were black. Why replace black carpets with new black carpets?”
Dresden’s eyes shifted. “Didn’t Jimbo tell you the whole story?”
“Jimbo doesn’t talk a lot. Why don’t you tell me?”
An exasperated sigh and a glance at his watch. “How long is this going to take? Am I under arrest or something?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I mean I can just walk out right now, right?”
“You don’t want to do that, Ivan.” Decker leaned forward and pushed the coffee in front of him. “Just tell me about your car and we can all go home.”
Reluctantly Ivan picked up the coffee and began to dress it to his liking. It gave him something to do. “I loaned the car to someone who left it out in the rain with the top down. Everything got ruined. Moldy and wet and smelly. That’s why I had it done.”
“Who’d you loan it to?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does. We need names to verify your stories.”
Ivan’s eyes narrowed. “This was precisely why I didn’t want to come in here. Not only are you hounding me, you’re going to get someone else involved.”
“And you’d rather not get someone else involved?”
“I know why I’m here.” Dresden glared at Decker. “You think I hurt my wife.”
Decker said, “You sound outraged!”
“Of course I’m outraged. Not only did I lose my wife, but you idio-You people think I had something to do with her disappearance.”
“Do you have any idea what happened to her!”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know what happened to Roseanne!”
“I believe you, Ivan.” Decker leaned in again. “I really do and that’s precisely why I insisted that we call you up and have you come in voluntarily. So you can explain the problem we have.” He paused, giving the words a chance to sink into Dresden’s brain. “We found stuff in the car, Ivan. We need some help with that.”
“What do you mean by stuff?” His eyes got big. “Oh shit! The cops planted drugs-”
“Not drugs, Ivan.” Decker shook his head in earnest. “No drugs whatsoever. We found blood, Ivan. Roseanne’s blood.”
Dresden went white. “What?”
“We found Roseanne’s blood in the car, Ivan.” Decker sincerely hoped that his words were the truth. He certainly didn’t want to deal with the possibility that the blood was from someone else. “Lots of blood, and that’s troubling. That’s why I brought you in. Out of respect. Because I believe you when you say you don’t know what happened to Roseanne. That’s why I have to hear your side of the story.”
Dresden’s eyes went from side to side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”