The Tower

A cop with sharp features and sandy blond hair came over and sat down next to Tony. A cigarette dangled casually from his lips, so natural-looking that it seemed like a part of his face.

"Hey, Robert," Tony greeted him.

"Sharing a drink with the infamous Jade Marlow, huh?"

"Yup," Tony said. "Infamous. Ever met him?"

Robert shook his head. "No. And from what I've heard, I think that's just fine."

"He's a good man," Tony said. "Well, not a good man. He's a decent man, and a great fuckin' agent, so I always figured they averaged out."

Both men laughed.

"I hear you brought him in to crack a confession out of that robbery suspect. Falstaff Creek, right?"

"Yeah, I brought him in. Worth every penny." Tony ordered another beer and settled back to tell his story. "We had a guy robbed a string of Seven-Elevens. Shoots out the security cameras before they pick him up. Last one, he shoots the clerk too. We have no hard leads, but a pretty good suspect."

"Evidence?"

"Circumstantial." The two cops shook their heads.

"But I call Jade in. He doesn't charge us much because we came up together. I want to question the guy that Saturday, so I send Jade home with his file. Friday night I get a call. Jade says, 'Cancel the interrogation. We're doing it next Sunday.' I have the mayor breathing down my neck for an arrest and this guy's telling me to push it back a week?"

Robert leaned forward, drawn into Tony's story. "Why?"

"Jade found out it was the guy's mom's birthday the next Sunday."

"So the fuck what?"

"That's exactly what I said. But Jade says you get 'em close to a birthday, an anniversary, something like that, it gets them thinking about the time they'll have to serve. Gets them thinking it's their last one if they don't cooperate. Then you hit them with the 'We'll go easier on you with a confession' speech and bang…" Tony slapped his hands together.

"So did you get him?"

Tony smiled. "That's not all."

"That's not all?"

Tony shook his head. "Jade says to get him in there first thing in the morning so the guy doesn't have a clear head, not thinking straight. I have someone pick him up at six in the morning."

"You let him stay out on the streets for another week?"

Tony waved him off. "We had an eye on him. We picked him up at 6:00 A.M. What time do you think Jade shows up at the station to get ready?"

Robert shrugged, his eyes riveted on Tony.

"Two o'clock in the fuckin' morning. I get in at 5:00 A.M. He's yanking folders off the shelves and stacking them on the desk. Papers are flying everywhere. I think he's gone fuckin' nuts. He's made copies of all the newspaper headlines about the robberies and he's taping 'em on these files and writing the guy's name under 'em with a big black marker. He even puts the original articles all over the walls."

"What's in the files?"

"I don't know. Traffic-ticket records. Blank memo paper. My dry-cleaning list. Whatever."

"Holy shit," Robert said. He ordered two more Strauders.

"So this poor miserable fuck comes in and he has no idea what's in store for him. He's scared, he's tired, it's fucking early, it's his mom's birthday. He sees these files with the headlines all over them and about shits his pants. He thinks we have the whole National Guard on his ass. He starts fingering this cross around his neck like crazy. He's sweating and he keeps glancing at this one file labeled 'Seven-Eleven Shooting' in huge black letters, laying on the table all the way to his left."

"He's turning to look at the file?"

Tony demonstrated, swinging around his beer gut in exaggerated fashion and gawking behind him. He turned back to his beer and took a long swig.

When he continued, his voice was much softer. His index finger waved in the air as he spoke. "And Jade notices this guy's holding on to the cross around his neck like it's gonna come to life and carry him off to heaven. So he starts talking really biblical."

"Talking biblical?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, like, 'Who could have committed such an egregious sin? Perhaps someone who feels cast out, who needs help and forgiveness.'" He waved his arms over his head as he imitated Jade.

"Giving the guy an out."

"Giving the guy an out," Tony repeated, nodding his head. "And when this guy's right on the edge, Jade circles the desk, walks over to him and 'accidentally' bumps a videotape off the desk where he hid it. It's got a Seven-Eleven security cover, it's got the date of the shooting on it, and the guy's name across the front in huge red letters."

"No."

"I shit you not. He practically knocks it into the guy's lap and then grabs it back real quick, all embarrassed-like, and acts like the guy wasn't supposed to see it."

"And he spills?"

"Like a glass of milk," Tony said grandly. "He starts crying about how he didn't mean to shoot him and it was an accident and it's his mother's birthday and he wants to see a priest and on and on."

"No shit?"

"None." The men drank their beers in silence for a few minutes.