“Solely because a witness might be useful, you have my permission to watch me interview Brownlee. With the clear caveat that I am not furnishing you with something interesting with which to amuse, or edify, others. Do you understand?”
Washington was dead serious, Summers saw.
He nodded his acceptance.
“If anyone else comes in, you will pass on to them Chief Coughlin’s admonition that if anyone lets this cat out of the bag, they may look forward to spending a good deal of time on Last Out.”
“You got it, Jason,” Summers said.
“The question, Kenneth, is whether or not you do.”
“I’ve got it, Jason,” Summers said.
“In that case, into the breach,” Washington said, and walked into the interview room.
Summers went into the room adjacent to the interview room and took a chair.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brownlee inquired of Sergeant Washington.
“My name is Washington, Mr. Brownlee. I’m a police officer.”
“You’re not going to get away with this bullshit. I know my rights!”
“Get away with what, Mr. Brownlee?”
“Coming to my place in the middle of the fucking night and hauling me off.”
“If you are suggesting that something illegal has transpired—”
“I want to call my fucking lawyer!”
“—you err. Would you like me to explain your situation to you?”
“I got my rights, motherfucker. I got the right to see my lawyer.”
“Your attorney is free to visit you during the prescribed visiting hours at the Detention Center,” Washington said.
“What’s with this Detention Center bullshit? I made bail!”
“You were out on bail,” Washington said. “As I am sure the officers who returned you to custody informed you at the time of your rearrest, the magistrate’s decision to grant you freedom pending trial has, on appeal, been overridden.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“The Honorable Harriet M. McCandless, Judge McCandless, on reviewing your case, decided there was a real possibility that you would fail to appear for your trial. And/or, based on your criminal record, that there was a real possibility that you would engage in further criminal activity while free on bail. And/or, that you posed a real danger to society. She therefore overturned the magistrate’s decision and ordered you remanded.”
“Ordered me what?”
“Returned to custody. Which is your status now.”
“How long am I going to be in here for?”
“If you mean ‘in custody,’ I devoutly hope for a very long time.”
“I want to make bail.”
“You don’t seem to be able to grasp your situation, Mr. Brownlee. Let me go over it again for you. You were arrested, charged with the possession of a quantity of controlled substances—which was later determined to be cocaine. At the time of your arrest, you were brought before a magistrate in the police administration building. He decided that, upon posting a bail of twenty-five thousand dollars, or having a bail bondsman post it for you, you could be released until your trial. The bail was posted, and you were released from custody. The decision of the magistrate was appealed by the district attorney to Judge McCandless—are you familiar with Judge McCandless, Mr. Brownlee? I understand she is known within the criminal community as ‘Hanging Harriet.’ ”
“I know who the bitch is.”