The Detetctive

(Interrogation room setting: A small, stuffy room, with a table, and two steel chairs on either side; dim lighting; a one-sided window on the wall with observers looking in; Detective is a short, stout man dressed in a spotless suit, his face devoid of expression; Suspect is a lanky, wiry fellow dressed in a sweatshirt and khaki pants)

Detective:      (walks in, sits down in the chair opposite suspect, places a closed file and a bottle of water on the table; he stares at the suspect without blinking)

Suspect:         (looks at the detective, his eyes shifting around)

(Few minutes pass in silence)

Suspect:         Well?

Detective:      (continues to stare, still hasn’t blinked once)

Suspect:         (fidgeting with his sleeves) Are you going to say something?

Detective:      Am I making you uncomfortable?

Suspect:         Umm…yea, a little.

Detective:      Good.

Suspect:         (blinks a few times)

Detective:      I’m sure you’ll find death row much more uncomfortable when you get sentenced for murder.

Suspect:         I didn’t…

Detective:      (raises his hand) Save it. You’re going down. This is an open-and-shut case. The D.A. says the death penalty is a lock.

Suspect:         But...

Detective:      (opening the file on the table) Let’s start with where you were on Sunday night between 7 and 9?

Suspect:         At home, watching the game.

Detective:      Anyone who can verify that?

Suspect:         (shrugs) I live alone.

Detective:      Of course you do. (flips a page in the file) You have quite an impressive record here. Robbery, vandalism, and forty seven outstanding parking tickets.

Suspect:         (slight grin) Who can afford to pay for parking in this city.

Detective:      You think this is funny?

Suspect:         (looks down at the floor)

Detective:      Two people were murdered, and you see the humorous side. I’ll make a note of that for the judge who will have to decide on your sentence.

Suspect:         (stays silent)

Detective:      I think the inmates at death row might appreciate your little comedy act. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.

Suspect:         I didn’t kill anybody.

Detective:      Looks like you started your career early. Your first robbery was at the age of twelve.

Suspect:         It’s a hard life on the streets you know. You do what you have to, you know, to survive.

Detective:      Like killing a married couple and stealing all their money?

Suspect:         No, sir. More like flipping wallets from dudes on the train.

Detective:      What did you find in their safe?

Suspect:         I don’t know anything about any safe.

Detective:      Uh-huh. (takes out a picture of a man from the file, and places it in front of suspect) Do you know this man?

Suspect:         (glances at the picture quickly, and shakes his head)

Detective:      Take another look. They call him Johnny Matzel.

Suspect:         I don’t know him.

Detective:      Sure about that?

Suspect:         Yea. (nodding his head). Yea, I’m sure.

Detective:      (slight shake of the head) For a career thief, you’re a pretty bad liar.

Suspect:         (looks at the table, saying nothing)

Detective:      (takes another picture from the file, and places it in front of suspect) This is you and Mr. Johnny standing at a street corner, clearly in animated conversation.

Suspect:         (glances at the picture, and looks away)

Detective:      Still don’t know him?

Suspect:         Alright, alright. Johnny is my…

Detective:      Drug-dealer?

Suspect:         …cousin.

Detective:      (folds his arms, and stares across)

Suspect:         Alright, I might have been using drugs a while back. Used to get them from my cousin.

Detective:      Uh-huh. Fun thanksgiving dinners you’ll must be having in your family.

Suspect:         We’re not that close.

Detective:      Since Johnny boy is your cousin, then you would know that apart from selling drugs, he has other skills.

Suspect:         We’re not really in touch. This picture must be from a while ago, right?

Detective:      Cousin Johnny is apparently a pretty good safe-cracker. A skill that would have surely come in handy for collecting the loot after killing that poor couple.

Suspect:         (raises both his hands) Look, I know nothing about that. I don’t speak to Johnny that often.

Detective:      Really?

Suspect:         I didn’t kill anybody, you have to believe me.

Detective:      No I don’t, kid.

(Someone knocks at the door, detective gets up and exchanges a brief word with him, before returning to his seat)

Detective:      Do you want the good news first or the great news?

Suspect:         (gives a blank look)

Detective:      Alright, the good news then. You can have a family reunion in the lockup tonight.

Suspect:         (stares, with wide eyes)

Detective:      That’s right, we have dear cousin Johnny in custody here.

Suspect:         Johnny?

Detective:      Right, good ol’ Johnny. He’s in the next room, and my colleague is questioning him as we speak. In my years of experience, I have found that street-level drug dealers are notoriously weak at interrogations.

Suspect:         (looks away)

Detective:      Tell me, how long do you think before Cousin Johnny folds and spills the beans?

Suspect:         (turns back to the detective, with a glazed look)

Detective:      You and Cousin Johnny can have a nice time together on death row then. Hell, maybe you can even be cell-mates. Relive the old times and all that.

Suspect:         (runs a hand through his hair)

Detective:      (smiles) And now for the even better news. We just searched your apartment, and guess what we found?

Suspect:         (stays silent)

Detective:      Your gun. A Smith & Wesson .40 caliber little toy.

Suspect:         I have a license for that…

Detective:      Oh, do you? How sweet. Do you also have a license for murder?

Suspect:         (blinks rapidly)

Detective:      Did you know that was same caliber of bullet that was used for the murder? A ballistics report should be available soon, that should confirm that it came from your gun.

Suspect:         (fidgets with his sweatshirt)

Detective:      Look kid, let me break it down for you. We have witnesses that place you close to the scene on the night of the murder, you have no real alibi, we have your cousin in custody, and we also have your gun. It’s looking really, really bad for you. Now’s here’s what I can do for you. If you come clean now, tell us everything, we can help you cut some sort of deal.

Suspect:         (still fidgeting, his breathing rapid)

Detective:      We can give you a life sentence or even fifty years, and put notes in about your sincere cooperation. With good behavior inside, you can quite possibly get out on parole in forty years or so.

Suspect:         I didn’t do it.

Detective:      (jerks up suddenly, plants both palms on the table, and leans forward) You’re lying. I’ve already caught you lying today. You killed those people and stole their safe. And you’re busted now. We have everything we need to put you away for good.

Suspect:         You have the wrong guy.

Detective:      (shouting) Tell us what happened and cut a deal.

Suspect:         (panting, eyes blinking)

Detective:      (stands up and starts to walk around the table) Tell me, what game you were watching that day on T.V.? What was the score?

Suspect:         (looks up) Huh?

Detective:      You said you were at home on Sunday night, watching a game. What was the score?

Suspect:         (blinks) I don’t know…

Detective:      (slams his fist on the table) Answer me.

Suspect:         (stammering) The…the…Giants won 20-10.

Detective:      (leans back, smiling) The Giants didn’t even play that day. Their game was moved to Monday night. You’re lying again. What’s worse, you’re lying about your alibi.

Suspect:         (his eyes turning red, taking short, rapid breaths) I…I…

(Someone knocks on the door, says a few words to the detective and hands him a sheet of paper)

Detective:      (struts towards the suspect) Alright kid, I have here the ballistic reports confirming that the bullet came from your gun.

Suspect:         (hyperventilating, doubling over)

Detective:      (flings the sheet of paper across the table) Come clean, kid. This is your last chance…

Suspect:         (hands clutching his hair, his face contorted, shouting) Alright, alright, alright. Alright, we did it…but it was mostly Johnny’s idea, I swear to you. I’ll tell you what happened, but I just went along you know…you have to believe me, sir.

Detective:      (calmly sits down, takes a sip of water from his bottle) Start talking.

(Suspect goes on to confess; at the corner of the table lies the sheet of paper flung by the

detective, a printed memo informing all police officers of some mundane policy updates.)