Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

“I have to get out man.”

“So pay your bail.”

“I can’t man. That’s twenty-five thousand dollars!”

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s what I’m saying man, I’m getting fucked.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah man, doesn’t it say that on the file?”

“Who knows? Who can read this prick’s writing? Taking your word for it, what judge set that ridiculous bail on a B sale?”

“Don’t know, some fat guy.”

“That narrows it down. Why did he set it?”

“I don’t know. My attorney and the DA went up there for a bunch conference—”

“Bench.”

“—and the judge set that bail.”

“Was it the same DA you talked to at the precinct?”

“Yeah, they delayed the case until he came.”

“Fucker.”

“What?”

“Never mind. What do you want to do? They won’t guarantee anything until they hear what you have to say but it sounds to me like you’ll be getting out.”

“What should I do? I trust you man.”

“I don’t know. This cooperation shit never seems to work out. If this were an A felony with you facing fifteen to life or something I’d be the first to say run with it but this is a case where eventually I can probably get you something reasonable so maybe it’s not worth the risk. Of course that’s easy for me to say because I’m not serving day one regardless.”

“I want to do it man.”

“Okay, we’ll see what we can do then.”

“So what happens now? I’ve never done this before.”

“Read this. In a little while the DA and that cop are going to come back in here. They’re going to ask you questions about what you know. Some of the questions they already know the answers to and are just checking to make sure you’re being straight with them. That agreement you’re reading says that whatever you say at this meeting will not be used against you except under certain circumstances.”

“Like what circumstances?”

“Like read it. If you testify to something different or if they use what you say here today to develop other information.”

“What’s this part here?”

“That’s where you waive your right to have me present during the meeting.”

“Fine but you’re going to be here right?”

“No, that’s exactly what that means. I’m not going to be here.”

“Why not?”

“Because they know I have a lot of other clients and they don’t want me to be in a position where I might hear something pertaining to one of those clients.”

“If you’re not going to be here, then forget it. And I mean it too.”

“Good.”

“Okay I’ll do it. Never mind.”

“Okay.”

“Now what do I do?”

“Sign it… good… you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Brilliant. Oh yeah, like I just said, one of the things they claim is that the cop will ask you questions he already knows the answer to so they can judge whether or not you’re being straight with them and can be trusted.”

“So what should I do?”

“Well if you want to do this then you should tell them the truth so it will work out for you right?”

“Got you.”

Except that almost none of those precepts, those truly tried snippets and individually-wrapped datum that I thought I knew because they’d never previously failed to attach to that fact pattern to the extent that they reflexively exited my mouth promising to reassure with routine, would apply here to DeLeon. And this much should’ve been clear to me from jump based on the eyes I saw.

Because the four eyes that then entered the room were not dull and surrounded by the usual jaded masticated skin so endemic to that spent system. That skin that practically beseeched the clock to tick with greater speed, skin that announced a vacancy and slouched in its chair to make evening plans at 2:00 p.m. No, the eyes I saw then had causally shed that skin and instead now pierced the room with brilliant beams of light; and cast in this new light was the story of how the world looks to a twenty-year-old and what it becomes to a thirty-five-year-old. How those eyes had once looked upon their owner’s chosen arena and could only foresee a future, a life, as seen on Television . But how over time they grew weary and diminished. Out of self-defense they did this. The constant assault of mediocrity maybe did this along with the realization that the stupid, highly-mediated ideal they were secretly worshiping would in no way be approached. Not by someone who was clearly not a star but at best the supportive best friend or just the girl that establishes the killer’s vile m.o.

Then again there were those moments. Moments when those two disparate world views seemed to inch towards each other with the promise of sweet confluence. Moments when a person thought that, when all was said and done, maybe they would become that which they had previously envisioned. Or better yet they might see that, in fact, they had been this person all along and had simply been biding their time until this moment arrived eager to sweep them along in its momentum. And it was a sad thing, I thought, to see someone in the throes of what they believed might be one of those moments. Sad but compelling and I wanted mostly to stay and understand the cause.

And I don’t think that Assistant District Attorney for the Office of the Special Narcotics Prosecutor, Roger P. Dacter, or Detective Adam D’Alessio of the Manhattan North Narcotics Unit were directing much thought my way because after we all mouthed some pleasantries and I gave them the signed Queen for a Day, they never did ask me to leave but instead Dacter started right in with what seemed like a standard kind of opening to a surprised DeLeon:

“Hello, Mr. DeLeon.”

“Oh, hello.”

“I know you’ve gone over the Queen for a Day with your attorney. Do you feel like you fully understand the terms of that agreement?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. It’s basically there to protect you and to make you comfortable in discussing matters with us openly. We’re not looking to hurt you based on anything you say here today, we’re just trying to get an idea of the best way for us to work together on this thing to our mutual benefit.”

“I want to get out man because—”

“Well I’m sure your attorney explained to you that we don’t make any promises until we hear in detail what it is you have to offer. Now based on what we discussed at the precinct the other day, well we’ve been able to confirm a lot of what you said that day and in our opinion, and I know Detective D’Alessio agrees with this, it’s very useful information and if it all works out you are going to be able to help yourself quite a lot. We wanted to talk to you today to follow up on what we spoke about last week, and this has yet to be decided but we’re probably going to want you out on the street working with us and working your time down. After today, if through your attorney we can agree to something, we’re going to end up making certain promises to you. First and foremost we’re going to promise to do the best of our ability to ensure your safety.”

“Can I get a new identity?”

“If we determine that’s necessary, yes. Believe me, we understand you’re putting yourself at risk by giving us this information. Detective D’Alessio is very familiar with all of the people you will be giving information about and I can assure you that we recognize the highly sensitive nature of this situation. Also you should realize that we have a very vested interest in making sure nothing happens to you in that regard. As I’m sure your attorney will agree, the criminal justice system is a very insular society. What I mean is, well, um. Word travels fast is what I’m saying. People have rabbit ears. I’m sure you know what I’m saying.”