Ed McBain - Kiss

Carella signaled to him. "I'm Carella,”

he said.

The cop fiddled with the catch on the gate, came into the squadroom, and walked directly to Carella's desk.

"I need your signature," he said.

The printing across the face of the manila envelope read IDENTIFICATION SECTION- BALLISTICS. Carella signed the receipt slip fastened to the envelope. The cop tore off the top yellow copy, waved vaguely, and went out.

The room was suddenly very still.

Carella unlooped the little red string from around the little red cardboard button, lifted the flap of the envelope, and pulled out several typewritten forms. He was looking at the report on Denker's gun and the cartridges and bullets fired from it. Meyer was standing on his right, Nellie on his left, both of them slightly behind where he was sitting. All three silently read the report.

"Let's go get him," Nellie said.

He was much better-looking than Nellie had expected. You hear somebody's a hit man from Chicago-with a handle like Denker, no less-you expected some kind of gorilla. A big unshaven guy still wearing the threads the state gave him when he was released on parole. The cold, flat eyes of a professional killer. A thin-lipped mouth. Broken nose, lotsa muscles, no brains. That's what you visualized.

But Andrew Denker-who didn't like to be called Andy-was a tall, well-dressed, slender blond man with an easy, pleasant smile and a gentle voice. When she entered the interrogation room, he was in quiet conversation with a man wearing a brown sharkskin suit. Nellie heard no dems, deses, or doses. Denker was altogether attractive. She was quite taken aback.

"Mr. Denker," Carella said, "we'd like to ask you some questions now. Before we do, though, I want to be sure you still understand what your rights are.

Earlier tonight, we ...”

"Speaking of rights," the man with Denker said, "my client's already been here ... how long have you been here now, Mr. Denker?”

"They entered my apartment illegally at ...”

"We had a warrant," Carella said.

"No-Knock," Meyer said.

"I'm Nellie Brand," Nellie said, extending her hand to Denker's lawyer. "District Attorney's Office. I don't believe we've met.”

"Harvey Keller," he said, "Legal Aid," but did not accept her hand. "Miss Brand, I've been here for an hour and a half already, and my client's been here since ... when was it, Mr. Denker?”

"About twelve-thirty," Denker said.

Keller looked at his watch.

"That makes it more than three hours already, three hours and ten minutes to be exact, and no one has told him why he's here or what he's been charged with. I believe you're familiar with the section in Miranda that ...”

"He hasn't been unduly detained, Counselor," Nellie said. "And with his permission, we'll start the questioning as soon as we're sure he still understands his rights.”

“What am I doing here, anyway?" Denker asked, and smiled. His eyes met Nellie's.

An invitation in those eyes. He was a man accustomed to using his charm on women.

"Detective Carella?" Nellie said, ignoring Denker's steady gaze. "Would you read Mr. Denker his rights, please?”

Carella read Miranda by rote.

Denker affirmed that he still understood all his rights.

"Mr. Denker?" Nellie said. "Are you willing to answer our questions now?”

"What's this in relation to?" Keller asked.

"A homicide that occurred last night, the seventeenth of January.”

"Am I to understand you'll be charging my client with murder?”

"That is our intention, yes, sir," Nellie said.

"So why should he answer any questions?”

"He doesn't have to, of course. You know Miranda as well as ...”

"I would advise you to remain silent,”

Keller said.

"Why?" Denker said. "I didn't do anything.

I have nothing to hide. Besides, I'd like to put on the record that these two officers broke into my apartment and began shooting at ...”

"Mr. Denker, excuse me, sir,”

Nellie said, "but before you say anything else, would you please affirm that you're willing to answer our questions?”

"I would still advise ...”

"Yes, I'll answer any questions you have,”

Denker said.

He was slumped casually in a wooden armchair, long, slender fingers laced across his chest, long legs extended under the table around which they all were sitting. A one-way mirror was on the wall facing him, but no one was in the room behind it.

A detective from the Photo Unit was running the video camera. A police stenographer sat behind a stenograph machine, taking backup notes. Nellie read the date and time into the record and named everyone there present. "Mr.

Denker," she said, and the Q and A began: Q: Can you tell me your full name, please?

A: Andrew Nelson Denker.

Q: And your address, please? A: 321 South Lewiston, Apartment 4C.

Q: Is that a permanent residence?

A: No, I make my home in Chicago.

Q: How long have you been in this city?

A: I got here on the second. Right after New Year's Day.

Q: What is your occupation, Mr. Denker?

A: At present, I'm unemployed.

Q: What is your usual occupation?

A: I do various jobs.

Q: Of what sort?

A: Well, I usually do bodyguard work.

Q: Mr. Denker, did you present yourself to Emma Bowles as a private detective from Chicago?

A: Yes, I did.

Q: Why did you lie to her?

A: To put her at ease. I thought she might feel more secure if she thought I was a licensed detective.

Q: But you're not a licensed detective, are you?

A: No, I'm not.

Q: Did you also give her a false name?

A: Yes.

Q: And a false business card? With a false address on it?

A: Well, yes. But the telephone number was my own. In case she decided to check on me.

Q: Why did you go to all that trouble?

A: Well, I like to maintain a private identity.

Q: I see. Did you maintain this private identity with Martin Bowles? Or did he know you were Andrew Denker and not Andrew Darrow?

A: He knew, yes.

Q: Did he also know that you're not a licensed detective?

A: Yes, he knew that, too.

Q: But he hired you, anyway.

A: Yes.

Q: Why did he hire you?

A: To protect his wife.

Q: To kill his wife, isn't that what you ...”

A: Excuse me, Miss Brand.

Q: Yes, Mr. Keller?

A: Mr. Denker has indicated that he will answer any questions you may have, and his willingness to cooperate should be noted on the record. But when you begin hurling reckless accusations ...

Q: Sorry, Counselor, would you like me to rephrase what I just asked him?

A: Surely, if this were a court of law, a judge would ...

Q: Well, this isn't a court of law, but I will rephrase the question. Mr. Denker, did Martin Bowles hire you to kill his wife?

Is that okay now, Mr. Keller?

A: Yes, thank you, Miss Brand.

Q: Would you answer the question, please?

A: Martin Bowles hired me to protect his wife.

Q: Not to kill her?

A: No, not to kill her.

Q: I see. Mr. Denker, does your line of work require possession of an automatic pistol?

A: Sometimes, yes.

Q: Do you now possess such a pistol?

A: Yes, I do.

Q: I show you this Colt .45-31liber automatic pistol and ask you if this is your pistol.

A: Yes, it is.

Q: Do you have a license for this pistol?

A: No, I don't.

Q: Wasn't this pistol in your possession when it was taken from you by force last night?

A: Yes, it was.

Q: But you admit not having a license for it?

A: That's correct.

Q: Mr. Denker, I show you a report from the Ballistics Section, comparing bullets and cartridges test-fired from this gun with bullets and cartridges recovered at the scene of a murder committed on the night of January seventeenth. Would you take a moment to ...”