“Did you read him his rights?”
“Of course. I had him sign a document explaining his rights.”
That was important to the judge. “Did you bring that document with you?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s see it.” Wes showed the original to the judge.
“Is this your client’s signature?” he asked Tracey.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then what are we doing here, Ms. James?”
“I want to show you how it was obtained and why it should be stricken.”
“Then get on with it, Ms. James. Stop wasting our time with these meaningless questions.” It was a definite slap, one Tracey was not used to receiving.
“Before you picked my client up, you talked to his high school principal, Mr. Bill Yates, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And Mr. Yates told you that Rudy had an intellectual deficit, that he couldn’t keep up with the other students academically, correct?”
“Yes.”
“They passed him academically to the tenth grade, although they shouldn’t have, but after that he just received an attendance certificate, correct?”
“Pretty much.” That answer wasn’t good enough for Tracey. Too much wiggle room.
“Pretty much? Is there anything in my question you want to qualify?”
“No, it’s correct.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mr. Yates tell you anything else about Rudy?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t tell you that Rudy was very affable, that he’d agree to everything you’d say; that in all fairness you shouldn’t question him without either his mother or a lawyer present-the principal didn’t say those things to you?” Tracey was starting to squeeze. The Grunt resisted, just as she had hoped.
“No. I don’t remember him saying anything like that.”
“You don’t remember him saying anything like that or he didn’t say anything like that: Which is it, Officer Brume?”
“Detective Brume.”
“Okay. Which is it, Detective Brume?” She was getting under his skin already.
“He didn’t say anything like that,” the Grunt replied defiantly. This bitch wasn’t going to push him around. At counsel table, Clay put his left hand on his forehead. He knew what was coming.
“You picked Rudy up at the convenience store where he worked, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did you speak to his boss?”
“Yes.”
“Was he reluctant to let Rudy go with you?”
“Somewhat.”
Tracey bit his head off again. “What does ‘Somewhat’ mean, Mr. Brume? Does it mean he was reluctant or he was not reluctant?”
“It means he didn’t want me to take Rudy at first but after we talked and I told him the importance of the investigation, he agreed that Rudy should go with me.”
“You mean he agreed after you threatened him with the health department?”
“That’s not true. I would never do that.” Wes didn’t dare look up at the judge. He had used those exact words before in a speeding hearing.
“Did Mr. Dragone want to call Rudy’s mother to let her know what was happening?”
“I don’t recall that.”
“Did you discourage him from doing that?”
“I don’t recall that.” Wes had hit on a new answer. He remembered a former president had used it very effectively.
Tracey kept the pace moving, mindful that the judge might wonder where all this was going. She picked up the police report from her desk, held it in her hand.
“So you took Rudy to the police department?”
“Yes.”
“And you began questioning him, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And according to your report, you began questioning him at 3:18 p.m., correct?” She showed him the report. Wes glanced at it.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“And isn’t it true, Officer Brume, that before you started your interrogation of Rudy, his mother arrived at the station and demanded to see her son and that you not question her son without her being present?” The Fourth jumped to his feet. It was his first opportunity to stop Tracey’s rhythm.
“Objection, Your Honor. Compound question.” It was a valid objection but meaningless under the circumstances. There was no jury and Judge Wentwell certainly knew it was a compound question.
“Overruled. Proceed, Ms. James.”
“Do you need me to repeat the question, Officer Brume?” Tracey asked.
“Detective Brume. No, I recall the question. To my knowledge the mother didn’t arrive at the station until I was almost finished with the interview.”
“When she did arrive, did she request that you stop the interview?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He’d agreed to talk to me. He’s an adult and she’s not a lawyer.”
“Did you tell him his mother was outside and she wanted to see him before he answered any more questions?”
“No.”
“Is that because you knew that he wouldn’t talk to you anymore if he knew his mother was outside?”
“No. I was almost finished anyway. At that point it wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“You hadn’t taken his blood yet, had you?”
“No.”
Tracey changed subjects again. “Where did this interrogation take place?”
“In the interrogation room at the police department.”
“I’ve heard about that room. It’s equipped with a television camera, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you have audio recording equipment in there as well, correct?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t use either?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Was there a reason why you didn’t, Officer Brume?” The Fourth was on his feet again.
“Objection, Your Honor. She’s harassing the witness. He’s already told her several times that he’s a detective.” Unfortunately for Clay, Judge Wentwell was enjoying the harassment.
“He may be a detective, Mr. Clay, but he’s also a sworn police officer. I don’t see how addressing a police officer as ‘Officer’ can constitute harassment. Objection overruled. You may proceed, Ms. James.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Do you need me to repeat the question, Officer Brume?” Tracey asked politely as she turned her focus back to the fat little cop.
“No. There was no reason in particular. We rarely use the video camera. And I didn’t have a tape available.”
“What would you have had to do to use the camera, just get a videotape?”
“Pretty much.”
“Is that a ‘yes,’ Officer Brume?”
“Yes.”
“Where was the videotape?”
“In the equipment room.” He was being evasive but Tracey didn’t mind. His evasiveness would have been obvious to a two-year-old.
“And where is the equipment room?”
“Down the hall.”
“And the recording equipment, would you have found a tape for that in the equipment room as well?”
“Yes.”
“Can you be more specific, Officer Brume? How long would it have taken you to walk down the hall, fetch the video or recording equipment, or both, and install them before beginning your interview?”
“Three to five minutes,” the Grunt replied nonchalantly. It was that cavalier attitude that made Clay Evans want to strangle him. Does this idiot have any idea where she’s taking him?
“Is it accurate that this recording equipment was in the interrogation room to be used for interrogations?”
“Of course.” What a stupid question, Wes thought.
“Is it accurate that when you brought my client in for questioning he was already a suspect in this murder?”
“Yes.”
“And he was your only suspect at the time?”
“Yes.”
“And is it accurate, Detective Brume, that in your twenty-plus years as a police officer in this department this is the most heinous crime you have ever investigated?” She had deliberately called him Detective. She was starting to give him the respect he deserved, or so it seemed.