David Wiltse - Bone Deep

"You're sure you know which house I'm talking about?" Tee asked. "Yes sir, Officer McNeil drove me around and showed me all the houses on your list."

"And you insist you've never been there?"

"I've never been there, sir."

"Two weeks ago, a Thursday night."

"No sir, I ain't been in Clamden in six months until Officer McNeil drove me around today."

"There are no other charges attached to this one, you know," said Tee.

"No one was hurt, you didn't break any more laws than in all the rest of them."

"I'm glad no one was hurt," said Kiwasee. "Ain't nobody ever hurt in my work, I don't go nowhere near a house there's anybody in it-but I didn't do that house."

"The judge isn't going to put you away any longer for nine burglaries instead of eight. I just want to get the case off my books. You understand?"

"I appreciate that, I do. But you wouldn't want me to lie to you, would you, sir?"

"They found stolen property from the Levin house in your apartment, Tyrone."

"I don't know nothing about that. I ain't never seen that house before today."

"They tell me the property was under your bed, Tyrone. "

"Ain't just my bed, you understand. Other peoples sleep there.

"So you're trying to tell me you've never been in that neighborhood, Tyrone?"

"No sir. Never have been."

"You pretty much have to drive past it, that's a main road. How else did you get around?"

Kiwasee stared blankly in front of him, withdrawing within himself for the first time in the interview. Tee saw it as clearly as if a hood had been dropped over the man's head.

"You're on Clamden Road as soon as you turn off the Merritt Parkway,"

Tee said. Kiwasee continued to stare. "Did you travel exclusively on back roads?"

"Yes sir, that's what I done. I just got around on back roads.

Tee extracted a map from his desk drawer and spread it on his desk.

"Show me how you did that, Tyrone."

"I ain't good at maps."

"You drove around the back roads of Clamden without a map? — You must know the town pretty well. Most newcomers get lost… You ever get lost, Tyrone?"

"I got lost sometimes."

"What did you do? I don't suppose you stopped and asked for directions.

Being a burglar."

"I just kept driving."

"Three in the morning, a car full of stolen goods, and you just kept driving around the back roads of Clamden until you got out?"

"Yes sir."

"Listen, son, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but a young black man driving aimlessly around in Clamden at three in the morning is not something that would go unnoticed by anyone who saw it. You understand that, don't you?"

"Ain't stupid," Kiwasee said with resentment. "I know how you people think when you see a black man in your town. Think he's a crook."

"Well, in your case, that'd be right, wouldn't it?"

"Depends when you see me. I ain't always a crookjust when I'm working."

"Are you ever in Clamden when you're not working, Tyrone? Do you ever come by just for pleasure? I don't want to get into the sociology of it, but a lot of people in this town, they see a black man driving around, they call the police. Right or wrong."

"I knows that."

"We have black families here, you know. The town is not segregated, it's just expensive, and predominantly middle-class, and predominantly white. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you how that works."

"No sir. I understands it, that's why I come here."

"Because…?"

"Because it's expensive."

"Makes sense, son. I'd do it the same way. But there is one thing I'd do differently. I'd know how to get out of town fast. If I ran into a cop car at that time in the morning, I know he'd be inclined to check me out, being a cop and all. I'd want to know where I was going and how to get back to Bridgeport as fast as possible."

"I always managed to get out."

"I know you did, what I don't quite understand is how you managed to get out. If you're driving around, lost, how do you know when you're out?"

Kiwasee looked at him blankly.

"Usually, you're lost in a situation like that, when you hit a main road, that's when you know you're out."

"That's right, sir. That's how I know I'm out."

"What main road did you hit? The one that takes you back to exit forty-two on the Merritt Parkway? That would get you home quickest."

"Yes sir."

"That's Clamden Road. But you said you've never been on that road.

You've never driven past the Levins' house, you've never been in that neighborhood."

Kiwasee nodded, assessing the logic of the situation. "Must be I got on another one."

"Must be, Tyrone… It's interesting, isn't it, how one little lie, if you stick with it, can get so complicated. Pretty soon nothing you say makes any sense at all. Why are you lying to me, Tyrone?"

Kiwasee sank sullenly into his protective silence. Tee saw it rise up over him like an impenetrable shield. Trapped, they turned inward. It was never smart to trap them, and now, for the time being at least, this one was gone.

Tee spoke on his intercom to Maureen, who was two doors away in the dispatch office.

"Where's McNeil?"

"I sent- him to check out a missing person complaint," said Maureen.

"He's on his way back now. He should be here in less than a minute unless he stops at the center for coffee. "

" Send him right in," said Tee. "I want him to take Mr. Kiwasee back to Bridgeport. Who's missing?"

"A girl named Inge Schrag, a German all pair working for the Hills.

Probably got fed up and went home."

"Send in Metzger."

"Right. And Chief, Mrs. Leigh called."

For a moment Tee stared blankly at the prisoner, his eyes unfocused, his expression as impassive as Kiwasee's.

"Yes?"

"She didn't leave a message, just said to tell you she called."

"Uh-huh… Wonder what she wants."

"Uh-huh. Wonder." Tee thought he heard mockery in her tone. When the intercom fell silent, he turned his attention again to Kiwasee. "How did you get along with Officer McNeil?"

Tee thought he saw a tiny flinch, as if someone had flashed a hand quickly in front of Kiwasee's eyes. "He fine."

Metzger stood at the parade-rest position, his feet spread, his arms clasped behind his back. It was his normal stance in the presence of the chief of police. He thought of it as respectful and attentive. Tee thought it weird, but knew that Metzger felt more comfortable that way than sprawled in a chair.

"So, tell me again. You got within a quarter-mile of the reservoir and you just decided to stop, just give up the search. "

"Well..

"It wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Not really, no sir."

"McNeil just said, this is enough, fuck it-something like that, right?"

"Well…

"I'm not asking you to tell stories about him, I just wonder what would make a man stop short at that point. After you'd gone so far."

"Uh..

"I'm not angry, Mel. We all fall a little short of perfect from time to time. We all fuck off now and then. It just seemed a funny spot to pick to quit. You had to walk the rest of the way to the reservoir to get to your car anyway. Did he say why he wanted to take to the road right then?"

"He said it was quicker to walk on the road."

I 'That's true… That's all he said?"

"That was pretty much it."

"What do you think, Mel? What was going through his mind right then?"

"That's hard to say, Chief."

"Take a stab at it."

"I don't always understand exactly what-uh..

"He's hard to read, isn't he?"

"Yes sir, he is sometimes."

"Did you have any feeling that maybe he knew what lay between you and the reservoir, if you stayed by the river?"

Metzger rolled his eyes toward the ceiling in a display of cerebration.

"You can't see that orchard from the road, Chief. I don't know how he'd know what was in there unless he'd been there, and up in the woods like that, I don't know why he'd ever be there, you know?"