Ed Mcbain - Mischief

Nellie sighed and said, “Sure.”

Hoping this would be a quick one—though none of them ever really was—she phoned Gary to tell him what had come up, and then hailed a taxi outside her building downtown on High Street.

Walking familiarly into the station house, she nodded to the desk sergeant, and then took the iron-runged steps upstairs to the second floor of the building. She was wearing a tailored blue suit, a white blouse with a stock tie, and low-heeled navy pumps. After years of wearing her hair in a breezy flying wedge, she was letting it grow out; it fell now in a sand-colored cascade that reached almost to her jawline. Meyer and Hawes were waiting in the squadroom for her.

“Let’s try to make this a fast one,” she said.

Meyer filled her in.

“What do you think?” he said. “Have we got a Murder Two?”

“Let’s go talk to the man,” Nellie said.

Hamilton had asked for a lawyer the minute they told him they’d be trotting him around town to visit hospitals hither and yon. The attorney he’d called was a man who’d handled Hamilton’s daughter’s divorce for her; his name was Martin Campbell, and Meyer guessed he was in his early fifties. By now, a lot of identification had taken place, and Campbell was suggesting that his client call off any further questioning. But Hamilton seemed to be enjoying all this; maybe he still felt he could beat this one; maybe he was right.

They went through all the rights business yet another time, making certain that Hamilton was still willing to answer questions, this time with a video camera going. Campbell objected to the camera, but his client had already consented to it, and he knew he was whistling in the wind. Nellie shot him a look that said Come on, counselor, let’s not play games when I’ve got a heavy date, and Campbell harrumphed a bit about making sure the backup stenographer took down everything that was said, just in case anybody later on tried to tamper with the tape, as if anyone would.

“Mr. Hamilton,” Nellie said, “I just wanted to confirm for the record that notwithstanding your attorney’s advice, you are still willing to answer any questions I put to you.”

“I am.”

“Fine then. The police officers tell me that you’ve now been positively identified by three persons…”

“ Two of them incompetent,” Campbell said.

“Turn off that camera,” Nellie ordered at once. The operator looked at her, puzzled for a moment, and then hit the OFF switch.

“Counselor,” Nellie said, “this isn’t a court of law, nor am I taking a deposition. Your client has consented to my questioning, has further consented to the videotaping, and I’d like to continue this without any further interruptions from you, if that’s not too much of an imposition.”

“For the record,” Campbell said, “I merely want it noted…”

“This is not on the record,” Nellie said.

“I merely want it noted ,” Campbell repeated, “that one of the witnesses is suffering from Alzheimer’s disease…Rubin Hanks, is that his name?”

“Shanks,” Meyer supplied.

“Shanks, thank you, his wife has stated that he is an Alzheimer’s victim. And the other…”

“His wife has also identified your client as…”

“The other man also seems to be suffering from some sort of dementia,” Campbell said, “unable to tell us where he lives or who he is, other than Charlie. So if you’re counting on these two incompetent persons to make your case, I would strongly suggest that my client be released without being charged, and I would further suggest that you pray he doesn’t sue the police department for false arrest.”

“Gee whiz,” Nellie said. “I’ll bet these detectives haven’t been threatened with false arrest in a long time. I think you’ll agree, however, that Mrs. Shanks is a competent witness, and she has stated that she paid your client one thousand dollars to…

“You know,” Campbell said, “if hearsay is being permitted on the record…”

“The record is the videotape,” Nellie said, “all this is off the record. And I’d like to start the tape again, with your permission, and get on with the questioning. Or, if you think there are grounds to release your client, why don’t you ask for a writ of habeas corpus, hmmm?”

“Go ahead, ask your questions,” Campbell said, and waved her away with the flat of his hand.

Nellie nodded to the camera operator, who started the tape rolling again.

“Mr. Hamilton,” Nellie said, “ did Mrs. Shanks pay you a thousand…?”

“No,” Hamilton said.

“May I finish the question, please?”

“I never saw the woman in my life until this afternoon.”

Meyer looked at Hawes. Both men rolled their eyes.

“I hope the camera isn’t picking up the faces the detectives are making at my client,” Campbell said.

“Only person I’m on is the suspect,” the camera operator said.

“Hold it right there!” Campbell said. “Turn that thing off! Right this minute!”

The operator looked at Nellie. Nellie nodded. The room went dead silent.

“If you plan to use that tape as later evidence, then I resent my client being called a suspect on it, which carries a negative connotation. I’d like to start this all over again, Mrs. Brand. Rewind that tape, and then record right over what you’ve got. Conduct a proper Q and A here, or by God, if I have to drag my client out of here by his coat collar I will not permit him to answer another question.”

“i want to answer their questions,” Hamilton said. “They haven’t got a case here, and they know it.”

“Mrs. Brand? What do you say?”

“I say absolutely not . The record stands from the top, the tape will not be rewound or erased. Moreover, counselor, I understand your grand scheme…”

“I have no grand…”

“…is to destroy a Q and A to which your client has already consented ad infinitum . But I can tell you that if you continue to be disruptive, I’ll have the police throw you out of here. Is that clear? May I now continue?”

“Sure, sure, continue,” Campbell said.

Nellie nodded curtly.

“Start the tape,” she said.

Q: Mr. Colbert, is there any doubt in your mind that the words you’ve duplicated for us…how many times, Andy?

A: Twenty-three times, Bert.

Q: Twenty-three times now, in accordance with the court order, the same words over and over again, ‘I killed the three uptown,’ is there any doubt in your mind that the handwriting on the note found at the scene of the Henry Bright murder matches your handwriting exactly?

A: I’m not a handwriting expert.

Q: Thank you for that information, Mr. Colbert. But wouldn’t you agree that to a layman’s eye…

A: I wouldn’t care to speculate.

Q: Well, I can tell you that the D.A.’ll most likely bring in a handwriting expert, and he’s going to tell a jury just what anyone who isn’t blind can see, that the handwriting samples are a perfect match with the handwriting on the note the killer left.

A: Aren’t we being a bit premature? Talking about a jury when nobody from the D.A.’s Office has even been here yet?

Q: Let me end the suspense for you, Mr. Colbert. We’re going to call the D.A. just as soon as we finish here. And the D.A.’s gonna ask for the max on each count of Murder Two. You killed four people. You’re going to spend the rest of your life behind bars.