Authors: Elizabeth Gunn
‘Do you know the name of the arresting officer?’
‘I suppose they told me but I forgot. Joey always makes light of what he calls his “brushes with the law.” And you know, till about three years ago, that’s all it was – some loitering, and once he got in a fight. He never could seem to keep a job, so he got in the kind of trouble young men find when they’re idle. But lately … he’s done more serious property crimes. We hired lawyers before, got his sentence suspended the first time and shortened the second. But this time I think the judge is determined to show him the law is no joke. She set the bail very high.’
‘Are you going to bail him out anyway?’
‘Well … not right away. He expects me to, of course. But I think we would all be best served if he sat still in there for a while.’
‘Then you will?’
‘I don’t know. They have all the evidence they need to convict him, so I think he will serve some serious time over this. And I’m thinking, why spend a lot of money for a few days on the outside? In the end he has to go back and face the music anyway, so he might as well get used to it.’
‘That’s very sensible. Does all the family agree?’
‘Yes. I told my other children, and Luz and Chico too, not to put up the money. They said, “Don’t worry.” So if you want to interview Joey,’ Teresa’s smile was sadder than tears, ‘I have made it easy for you.’
‘I’m so very sorry you had to make that hard decision.’
‘It wasn’t all bad,’ Teresa said with a new note in her voice. ‘Pilar was thrilled when she heard that I had decided on my own to refuse him. She said, “You see, it’s like riding a bicycle – it will come back to you.”’
‘Well, hey, a silver lining.’
‘About time, too. Sitting here talking to you has made me think back to what a strong and brave person I used to be. I’m going to take a refresher course in driving now. Why have I been putting it off? Maybe if I get my driver’s license back I can stop being such a … what’s that word my grandchildren use? A weenie.’
‘Good luck with that. Will you do me a favor, Teresa?’
‘If I can. What?’
‘If you do decide to put up bail for Joey, will you let me know?’ Seeing Teresa hesitate, she decided to lock it in. ‘Three other people are dead. Till we know where the credit union money is, he might be best off in there where he’s safe.’
‘Oh,’ Teresa said, round-eyed with shock. ‘I never thought … Yes, of course. I’ll keep you advised.’
Rolling along I-10 on her way back into the city, Sarah put on her Bluetooth and called her friend, Greta Wahl, a guard at Pima County Adult Detention. She verified that José García was in pre-sentencing detention there. He had been brought in shortly after five the afternoon before, been fingerprinted and strip-searched, and was far enough along in his initial processing to have a visitor.
‘You might be the only one he gets, actually,’ she said. ‘You know, while they’re in Admitting they can have all the phone calls they want, and this little crybaby called his mama and every one of his relatives, I think. And one by one they’ve all turned him down. Looks like he’s used up his bonus points with his family.’
‘If I get down there in the next hour, can I talk to him in an interview room?’
‘Sure. You don’t even have to reserve a time today. We’re experiencing a lull in criminal activity.’
‘Well, aren’t we lucky?’
‘Except for the ever-present threat of layoffs, yes.’
Traffic was rolling peacefully along I-10, ten miles over the speed limit with just the occasional crazed speedster bombing through, keeping everybody’s heart rate elevated. With a little time to spare, Sarah called Records and got the name of Joey’s arresting officer. It was Artie Mendoza, whom she knew well. He was on patrol now, she learned, as she watched her exit coming up. She turned right at Silverlake Road and drove toward the tall flagpole that fronted the jail.
The big brick and glass building sprawled across its site – plenty of parking on both sides of the flagpole, neat sets of metal picnic tables and benches set into the pavers in front. It was not a venue anyone would choose for al-fresco dining, but the benches afford some comfort during the soul-sucking waits that families of law-breakers often have to endure.
Inside the lobby she stowed her Glock and taser in a locker, showed her badge to the officer who sat at the desk under the sign for professionals and signed for a visitor’s room.
A family group stood in front of the sign that said, ‘Public Visitation,’ the adults showing photo ID, then waiting, awkward and self-conscious, while the officer there checked for wants and warrants. The process was quiet and discreet, like a large doctor’s office. The visit they’d come for would take place over a TV-and-telephone hookup, the family in one of the booths that rose in tiers behind the desk, the prisoner in a similar booth deep in the interior of the jail. It was cold comfort, Sarah always thought, telephone talk with a TV picture. But having no physical contact removed the need to search the visitors, or monitor the visit, so it speeded everything up and made more visits possible.
In fact, if you had to go to jail, she reflected, looking around at the shining floors and tidy booth space, Pima County was the place to go. A state-of-the-art holding facility with constant podular supervision, Pima kept the peace and maintained the quiet. No trash on the floor, no fights, no shouting. Sarah privately suspected the constant supervision might make her loony in a week, but it probably beat worrying about getting shanked in the shower.
Since Joey’s rap sheet indicated a predilection for non-violent crimes, he would be chained for the trip to the visitation room but could be released inside the room if she so chose. She did, and the officer who unlocked the door said, ‘Yeah, so far all he’s showed us is a smart mouth, but remember where the buzzer is, Detective. These guys can turn on you in a blink.’
I know
,
I know.
While she waited at the end of the aisle, by the turn where the stairs went up to the booths, she dialed Artie Mendoza. When he answered from his car and said he had time to talk, she asked him for details about the crime.
‘He thought he was breaking into an empty house,’ Artie said. ‘He’s been pulling that trick, you know, of lining up stones on the walk in front of a house where the owner’s going to stumble over them or kick them away when he comes out to get the paper or whatever. If nobody moves the stones for a couple of days our burglar figures he’s good to go in.
‘The homeowner told me later, “I guess I should have noticed those stones out there, but I’m an artist, and when I’m working on a picture I get kind of spacey and vague.” So ol’ Joey García went in and loaded up some goodies, but the homeowner heard him. He used his head, too – he called nine-one-one and stayed in the john with the door locked till me and my backup had the culprit in chains.’
‘So,’ Sarah said, ‘this one’s going to be easy to prove.’
‘Absolutely no problem.’
‘And here he comes now. Good to talk to you, Artie.’
The guard who brought Joey was quiet but careful, his face a mask of no emotion whatever. Joey was looking around, smiling a little, looking bright and relaxed.
Been here
,
done this
, seemed to be the message he was trying to send.
It’s hard to look ominous in an orange jumpsuit. But even allowing for that, Sarah didn’t think Joey García looked dangerous. Cocky and arrogant, and a little bit … hyper, maybe? He might be coming down from some habitual drug use. If that was the case he was in trouble: Pima County would offer minimal help with withdrawal symptoms if they got very bad, but essentially it was cold turkey in here.
He was on the short side, with dark hair that curled low over his eyes. He’d had all his jewelry confiscated, of course, but she could see piercings for earrings in both ears and his arms carried colorful tattoos. She sensed some extra tension about him, too – an infantile need for attention. He brought an air of impending disruption into the room with him, like a wet dog getting ready to shake.
Always before an interview, a part of her brain replayed a few sentences from the course she took during her first year in Investigations.
Interrogation 101
:
it’s always your game. Never let them maneuver you into playing their game.
She took a deep breath, envisioned dappled shade along Sonoita Creek.
You have all
the power. Use it wisely.
She liked to go in quietly and give the prisoner a few seconds to get used to her physical presence. Small, neat and harmless was how she figured they read her, and she wanted them to see her that way and relax a little before she talked. She sat down and opened her notebook, waited five seconds, and said, ‘José García, good afternoon.’
‘Call me Joey,’ he said. ‘Everybody does.’ And it was all there, in the voice – the hubris, aggression and self-satisfaction. She might be Ms Kick-Ass Law, in charge of the doors and the locks, but he was in charge of his name and his image, which he clearly viewed as being supremely important.
‘Your legal name is José, though, isn’t it?’
‘Who cares? Everybody that knows me calls me Joey. You come to get me out?’
‘No, that’s not what I do. Actually, I’m not here to talk about your case at all.’
He opened his hands in a gesture of futility and said, ‘What’re we doin’ then?’
‘Three people related to you have met violent deaths in three years, so I’m interviewing everybody in your family. You’re just about last on my list. I went looking for you, and I found you in here.’
Not the whole truth
,
but close
enough.
He frowned, squinted and shook his head. ‘Listen, my family’s got nothing to do with this, understand? I just got into a little misunderstanding with this wimpy little artist fella at his house on Claravista. And then the cop he called to the scene simply wouldn’t listen to reason. Soon as my lawyer gets here we’ll get this all straightened out and I’ll be outta here.’ He made a child’s bye-bye wave.
‘I don’t think it’s going to be quite that easy this time, José. You’re charged with criminal trespass, willful destruction of property …’
‘Will you stop calling me José? Ain’t none of them charges going to matter one bit when my family gets here with the cash. That’s all this system is, see? A big scam to take money away from people.’
‘OK. But while you wait for that to happen, let’s talk about your family. Were you surprised when Frank Martin got accused of stealing money from the credit union, or did you know about that all along?’
‘Shee-it, lady, you gonna ask me how long I been beating my girlfriend, too? I ain’t some peasant lettuce-picker, you know. I grew up right here in Tucson, speak English and everything.’
‘I understand that, José. You knew Ed Lacey for a long time, too, didn’t you? All your life, I guess. Do you have any idea what happened to him? Why would he go off half-cocked like that and shoot at a cop?’
‘No idea,’ Joey said, ‘except maybe he finally came to his senses and realized cops are a bunch of overbearing assholes, so he decided to get rid of one or two.’
‘Ah.’ She closed her notebook. ‘Looks like you’re not quite ready to have this conversation, José. I think it’ll have to wait until you’ve enjoyed Pima County hospitality a while longer.’
‘Better not wait very long, lady. Soon as my bail money gets here I’m history.’
‘Better not count on that any time soon, José. Your mother told me she wasn’t going to pay your bail, and she’s made sure nobody in the family will bring you any money, either.’
‘That so? I think I know my family quite a bit better than you do.’ He made a good show of indifference but she saw a drop of sweat form beneath each eye. ‘Anyway, they ain’t the only friends I got.’
‘Well, good luck with that. But if nobody shows up with cash you’ll have to ask for a court-appointed lawyer, since you decided to plead not guilty – isn’t that going to be a stretch, given that they caught you coming out of the back door with the goods? But since that’s what you’re going for, somebody should warn you that they’re very busy, those pro-bono lawyers. There’s always a waiting list.’
‘You having fun telling stories over there?’
‘Some. You might sit here for two or three weeks before your attorney gets around to seeing you, and then there’s another long wait for a court date to defend yourself before a jury. Well, at least you’re in here out of the weather, hmmm? The food’s not great but they won’t let you starve.’
‘Is there an offer coming along behind this long sad story?’
‘Not exactly an offer. More like a suggestion.’
‘Oh, hey, a suggestion, that’s exciting. Let’s hear it.’
‘Well, if you were very helpful and forthcoming, and told me everything you know about Frank Martin and Ed Lacey, I could certainly report that to the court. I might even be able to get that court date moved up a little. And it never hurts to have some friends around when the time comes to go before the jury.’
‘What a fine speech. I got a suggestion too. Tell the police chief if he wants to get answers so bad he should send a juicier woman down here to visit me. I’d be friendlier to one who ain’t a crip and got legs she’s able to show off in a nice short skirt. Think you can remember that suggestion all the way back to the station, or are you already getting senile too, Ms Old Dyke Police Lady?’
Sarah stood up and picked up her notebook. ‘Good luck with that attitude, Joey. You get ready to help yourself out a little, give us a call. Maybe if we’re not too busy we might make time for you, but don’t count on it.’
Sometimes they folded when they saw she was really going to leave. But this must have been the first time everybody in the family had refused to help him, and Joey was getting close to choking on his rage, so he was going to have to learn this lesson the hard way. She went out and told the officer at the desk the prisoner was ready to go back to his cell. Then she completed her uneven hike across the lobby, thump-click, thump-click.
She did have to admire the quick way Joey had noticed her mismatched feet below her neat gray slacks, and saved that detail till he wanted to taunt her.
Let’s
make a note
:
he may be very foolish but he’s not stupid.