Page 87 of Whatever You Want

He threw a sloppy punch and missed. Mike shoved him down hard on the cement, keeping his knee pressed down on his back.

I slumped down to the ground, trying to get my breathing under control. I brought my hand up to my chest. Blood started to drip through my shirt and leak down onto my hand. I forced myself to my feet and bent over, trying to calm my racing heart.

My eyes peeled open, and I gave Mike a nod, letting him know I was fine.

The idiot was still trying to wrestle his body away as Mike pulled his cuffs out. “Police. You’re under arrest.”

“I’m going to sue you mother fucking pigs,” he screamed out in pain, trying to cover up his bloody nose.

“Oh, yeah.” Mike bent forward, gathering his hands behind his back, and snapped the cuffs around his wrists. “What are you going to sue us for, dipshit?”

“Police brutality, and you guys were discriminating against me because I’m homeless.”

“Is that so?” Mike pushed harder on his back as he struggled against the restraints. “Maybe we should add resisting arrest to your list of charges.”

I winced as I moved up in front of him. I balled my hand into a fist, thinking how this fucker just screwed up a month’s worth of work. Mike pulled out his cell and called for backup. We didn’t drive patrol cars, and I didn’t want his smelly ass stinking up my car.

“You hang out here often?” I asked as a thought popped into my head. Mike met my stare, knowing where I was going with this. “What can you tell us about the guy who walked out the back door before us?”

“The ginger?” His gaze darted to the side. Oh, he knew something all right. “Look, I like the guys in blue, I don’t want any trouble.”

Given that this is probably his nightly hangout, my guess was he saw or heard something the night that woman was killed. I decided I needed to approach this differently. I could make him think we suspected it was him, and have a little fun doing it, or take him downtown, book him and throw him in a cell for the night. But then I’d have to wait until morning to interrogate him. The aching stab wound right next to my heart made the first option sound much better.

“Where did you get the knife?” I asked, staring him down and ignoring the pain in my chest.

His head jerked back, eyes wide. “It’s mine,” he lied. He was nervous, good. Maybe now he would start talking. When people got scared, they got desperate.

“Interesting.” I wiped my hand along my flexing jaw. “There was a dancer left stabbed to death, right in this very alley with a knife just like the one you’re holding in your hands. Pretty strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Whoa, dude, what the fuck? You seriously think it was me?”

I tilted my head to the side and eyed him carefully. “Let’s see, what do you think, Mike?” I glanced at my partner. “First degree murder, assaulting a police officer with a deadly weapon, oh, and resisting arrest. How much time do you think he’d get?”

“At least twenty-five years, possibly life.” He smirked, playing along.

The dude started crying, and I saw piss running down his pant leg. “I won’t make it in prison, man. Look at me. I’m skinny and I ain’t got no tattoos. I’ll be someone’s bitch within the first week.”

“Well, today is your lucky day.” I pressed my fist to his chest. The pain in mine was getting worse, and I wanted to return the favor. “All you have to do is tell me if you’ve seen that man before.”

He looked down at the ground and hesitated. He couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to think he’d get out of this.

“Is he a friend of yours?” Mike asked.

“Does it look like we travel in the same social circles? Dude drives an Audi.”

Ahh…so he was familiar with his car. I think we might have found another witness.

“How do you know what kind of car he drives?” Mike said, glancing my way briefly and back to him. “And before you answer that. Consider this your last warning.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” His eyes started to shift all around us, looking for a way to escape. Good luck, dumbass.

“What’s your name?” I asked. I was running out of patience, and still pissed at myself for being distracted earlier.

“Barry.”

“All right, Barry.” I started pacing in front of him in slow steps. “Here’s the deal. As you can see, I’m in a little bit of pain here from the knife you rammed in my chest. I don’t have time to play games, so I’m going to give it to you straight. You’re going to jail for attempted murder of a police officer. Now, how long you stay there is up to you.”

“I didn’t know you guys were cops, I swear.”

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